


and i'll press you to the pages of my heart

by hesperides



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Author in Love With the Sound of Her Own Character Banter, Clothed Sex, Crossdressing, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Fivesome - M/M/M/M/M, M/M, Oral Sex, Pet Names, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Underage Drinking, Vampire Bites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25543630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesperides/pseuds/hesperides
Summary: “Now, then, what Hibiki-kun-said does bear some reflection. There is only so long we can take advantage of the graduation gift Natsume-kun’s bestowed upon us— it would be a shame if we failed to make full use of it.”
Relationships: Hibiki Wataru/Itsuki Shuu/Sakasaki Natsume/Sakuma Rei/Shinkai Kanata
Comments: 23
Kudos: 76





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> all the porn is in chapter 2, 1 and 3 are just there for set-up or flavor

In the end, there is no single gift that conveys Natsume’s gratitude in a way that feels right or satisfactory. He considers doing one for each of them, or nothing at all, turning the problem over in his hands day and night until Subaru notices him glaring out the window during class and flicks an eraser in his face.

On his trip home that afternoon, he stops at a stationary store. The shop girl smiles bashfully at all of his casual flirtations, helping him pick out thick black notecards and pale envelopes with a shimmery, pearlescent finish. He doesn’t necessarily _need_ the pens that write in silver and gold ink, but he finds himself setting them down on the checkout counter and watching them get bagged up with his other items anyway.

Everything is laid out on his desk when he arrives home, after the beakers and bottles and raw chunks of crystal are moved aside. He takes out four pieces of thick paper and lays them down side by side, then pauses there, considering, as he uncaps his new pens. What he writes here matters. Words can bring about growth or destruction, can save lives or end them. Natsume might favor theatrics, but he knows when simple and straightforward is better suited to the task. Spells are more than just flowery language, and in the end, he keeps it brief.

_This card, when combined with the other three of its kind, will enact a sacred rite. When presented together, for 1 day or 24 hours, Sakasaki Natsume will do whatever is asked of him by the four elder Eccentrics._

Dried herbs and flowers are pulled from the glass jars that line one of his bedroom walls and carefully sprinkled inside of each envelope, after the front is addressed and decorated properly. Pine and mint and acacia, with juniper for luck, he decides, sealing each envelope closed once he’s satisfied with his selections. 

He debates on when he should deliver them— after the ceremony, perhaps, but that would give them all a chance to tease him about it. Despite the comparisons it might draw to other kinds of letters stuffed inside of lockers, Natsume decides that way will be best. Things will be hectic the whole day and any grand gestures would likely be overshadowed by someone else’s grander one.

There’s one final inspection, turning each envelope over in his hand, before he hides them away behind a heavy book about pyrotechnics that sits on his shelf. Graduation is still a week or two off. He’ll place them when the time is right, and let fate run its course from there.

* * *

  
  


“Hey, your phone.”

Natsume hears his roommate’s voice from somewhere nearby, and pulls a pillow over his head.

“Get your phone!”

Anyone trying to call him this early can pitch themselves over the side of a cliff, as far as he’s concerned.

“Then _I’m_ getting your phone!”

This would give Natsume some pause under normal circumstances, but given his current state of being warmly cocooned up in his sheets and operating on about 3 hours of sleep, he could care less.

“Huh, it’s from _my very own Wataru Hibiki!_ He uses almost as many emojis as Naru does~”

—unless it’s from his shishou. Natsume bolts up, dislodging Lucifer from where he’s curled up in a white puff of fur on his stomach, ignoring the cat’s growls of displeasure as he levels Tsukinaga Leo with a look of cool authority. 

“Give that to me now.”

“Eh,” Leo says, scrolling back through the numerous alerts on Natsume’s lockscreen. “I don’t want to right now!”

Natsume retrieves it in the end, after a tense standoff. Leo gets the pages of his half-finished opening for a hot new drama series back unharmed when Natsume finally has his phone in hand, which is still firing off with Wataru’s incessant spam in their disused LINE group chat.

> wataru niisan im here is there something you needed?

He locks the door behind Leo once he sulks out of their shared dormitory bathroom, sheet music clutched to his chest and sticking his tongue out in defiance at Natsume, who’s already back to ignoring him. He’s more occupied with reading through the old messages, trying to figure out if Wataru actually bothered to start out with something intelligent before he started to copy and paste the entire first act of Hamlet.

> **Could it be? Have my prayers been answered at last??? AMAZING ★ My dear Natsume-kun has risen from the dead! A miracle has taken place after 24 minutes of my fevered attempts to reach him.**

Natsume closes the lid of the toilet and sits down, rubbing at his eyes with one hand as he types his response with the other.

> i placed it somewhere strange last night and had a hard time finding it. i’m sorry for the wait
> 
> **Such are the mistakes of youth! But no matter, I will forgive any trespass of my beloved pupil, even should he wish to maim me, flaying the flesh from my very skin, or insulting me on his public social media accounts! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ**
> 
> thank you wataru niisan but i would never want to do either of those
> 
> **My dear Natsume-kun’s kindness knows no bounds!!! ｡･ﾟﾟ*( >д<)*ﾟﾟ･｡ But enough with the foreplay, let’s continue on to the main event!**

The image that follows Wataru’s reply baffles Natsume for a moment, having to zoom in close enough to see the handwriting that’s shared between each of the four cards before he realizes what he’s looking at. They’re out of their envelopes, laid out two by two on someone’s coffee table, but Natsume still recognizes his graduation gifts.

> i see. have you all decided to invoke that spell?
> 
> **You guessed correctly, amazing! According to a little bird, Switch has no activities planned for this Saturday. If Natsume-kun had any intent to use this time for cavorting with his peers or other mischief, he’ll have to cancel! Our outing will be much more exciting, and Shu’s flying a few days after that, so we can’t reschedule any of the reservations!**
> 
> are we going out somewhere?
> 
> **Yes!! But I’m sworn to secrecy and am unable to say anymore than that! I will send you the meeting place and the dress code the morning of!**
> 
> dress code??
> 
> **(´｡• ω •｡`) ♡**  
>   
> ---  
  
Natsume inhales deeply, a quizzical frown on his face as he regards Wataru’s unhelpful emoji response. There are plenty of things it could mean, but knowing the other eccentrics, an attempt to discern further details would be pointless. He _was_ the one who gave them absolute free reign, so he just needs to grit his teeth and accept the consequences.

What’s the worst they could possibly do?

* * *

Their worst is, in fact, just as bad as he feared. 

Natsume tells himself that he isn’t hiding between the narrow rows of the hybrid coffee shop bookstore he’s been directed to, crouched low to fish out a book on Roman catacombs from the bottom shelf. He just ... didn’t want to wait in the cafe area for whoever was going to fetch him to arrive. Wataru didn’t specify _where_ in the store he should look for them, just provided the name and address and no further instructions. 

He stands, turning the book over in hands to inspect the back and front cover, all while carefully keeping an eye on the figure approaching from his left. The man looks to be a little older than him, about Rei’s age, and while normally Natsume wouldn’t mind striking up conversation with a stranger in such a setting, today is different.

His eyes stay trained on the reviews that are printed on the back as the man continues to advance, stopping once he’s a foot or so away, demeanor relaxed and cordial.

“Are you finding what you’re looking for?” the stranger says.

Natsume exhales a soft breath, fixing his face with the generic smile he uses when meet and greets that have run on too long. 

“I’m browsing. Do you work here?” 

“I do, but I’m not scheduled today. I’m just stopping in to check over a few things.”

He seems sincere enough, bright eyed and eager, though those sidelong looks he gives him are the same as all the other ones Natsume’s received since leaving the dorms— a keen sort of interest that he’s accustomed to seeing more from fans than total strangers on the train or in stores. The dress probably has something to do with it, but then, the dress has something to do with a great number of things in life at the moment.

What Natsume’s wearing is nothing revealing, quite the opposite, in fact, but the length of the skirt does little to quell his anxieties. The shop boy is explaining that they’re expecting several popular new releases that would go in this section and he asked the other employees to post notes about it and etc, etc. Natsume isn’t listening to what he’s saying at all, too focused on watching his eyes for the sheen of something like mockery, but it’s just— curious. Interested. A not so subtly gauging Natsume’s returned interest in him kind of interested.

“So if you were looking for any of those titles, they’d be in the back. I can go check for you, if you’d like.”

“I didn’t come in with any book in mind, and it would be rude of me to ask you for something like that if you’re off the clock,” Natsume says, his plastic, polite smile staying in place. 

“Oh, no, it’s no trouble,” he assures him. “I’m already here, it’s not like it would take me that long to do. If you’re just window shopping, you might as well look in every window, right?”

That’s one way to put it, Natsume supposes, and continuing to push that simpering kind of polite denial doesn’t much appeal to him. Under different circumstances, where he was in his element and not in a new place wearing clothing he’d made a point to become unfamiliar with, there would be more of his signature bite going into this interaction. Given his current appearance and lack of companions, however, he finds himself less inclined to toy with strangers than he usually would.

With a small shrug, Natsume tells him to go ahead, if he’s so intent on it. While he goes in back, Natsume checks his phone, noting the lack of new messages, in their group chat or otherwise, with a sense of resignation. In all likelihood, Rei’s own device is in the hands of some poor, overworked Rhythm Link intern, lost at the bottom of a briefcase.

The employee rolls a book cart back his way soon enough, stocked with multiple copies of whatever new releases he had been so insistent on having Natsume see. There are a few things that catch his eye, he had to admit— a translation of Orphic hymns quickly finds its way from off the shelf and into his hands.

“You seem like the kind of person who mostly shops online,” the persistent shopboy says. “But sometimes doing things in person lets you find things you wouldn’t think to look for, you know?”

Natsume hums, noncommittal, his eyes trained down as pages through the book.

“I’m Shinjiro, by the way, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before …” and Natsume does look up at him then, one eyebrow raised.

“I don’t come to this district often. I’m here to meet someone today.” 

It’s a straightforward answer, one Natsume doesn’t think at all deserving of the reaction it gets. The widening of eyes and hands raised in apology seems disconnected from Natsume’s response, at least until Shinjiro speaks again.

“Oh, I’m really sorry, I had no idea, I was just trying to help, really—”

A few gears click into place within Natsume’s head, confirming a thing he suspected but didn’t go so far as to assume, but he doesn’t get the chance to hear the rest of what the man has to say. Another voice interrupts him, bright and clear despite the softness of its tone, drowning out the competing sound.

“Nacchan~ There you are.”

He doesn’t see how Kanata sneaks up behind him, his cool arms wrapping around Natsume’s waist to practically carrying him to the far end of the aisle, away from Shinjiro. 

“You look so ‘cute’. Shu’s clothes are nice, aren’t they?” Kanata says, hands going to Natsume’s waist where the full black fabric of the skirt flares out from the bodice to create a bell-like shape.

Part of him wants to complain about the other being so clingy right out of the gate, especially after arriving late, but there’s little he can do to resist his ‘older brother’s’ innocent grin as he beams down at him. “Kanata-niisan, it’s good to see you,” is what he says instead.

“Rei is here too. Rei—” he turns his head, calling back in the direction he came, leading Natsume to follow his line of sight.

Rei Sakuma is indeed behind them, UV umbrella tucked under his arm, wearing a designer watch and a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes while he exchanges words Natsume can’t catch with the bookstore employee. Shinjiro, for his part, has the look of an animal caught in the sights of a predator, which ekes out the smallest amount of pity from Natsume’s stone heart.

“Rei-niisan, you’re late,” Natsume calls out, diverting Rei’s focus away from his now uncomfortable looking conversation partner.

“Sakasaki-kun, there you are,” he says, as if Natsume had been hiding away somewhere, and not obediently waiting at the agreed upon meeting spot for a good 15 minutes. “My apologies for our delay. It becomes so difficult for me to traverse the city with such an excess of daylight.”

“If you’re feeling unwell, Rei-niisan, should we stop and rest in the cafe before heading on to the aquarium?” Natsume says, doing his best to swat Kanata’s wandering hands away from the ribbon lacing up the sides of his bodice as Rei turns his attention away from Shinjiro and makes his way down the row to catch up to them.

“Something cool to slake my thirst could be helpful for the next leg of our journey,” he replies, eyes traveling up and down the length of Natsume’s body, analytical and exacting. As if Rei didn’t see him regularly enough to recall what he looks like— why were they both being so _weird?_

He’s still holding that book in his hands, he realizes, and tries to turn back in the direction of the cart so he can go and put it back, only to see the shopboy’s form beating a quick retreat in the opposite direction. That’s not very helpful, abysmal customer service, really, but he supposes he can just shove it back somewhere around the area he started in. 

Kanata plucks the book from his hands before he can voice his intent, holding it out and above Natsume’s head as he reads the cover aloud. “—was Nacchan wanting to buy this?”

“I was looking it over, that’s all.”

“That does seem like something suited to our dear child’s taste,” Rei adds after a quick scan of the cover. “I’ll buy it for you, Sakasaki-kun, if it’s caught your interest.”

“I can buy it myself, Rei-niisan.”

“Of course, Switch is doing quite well these days, aren’t they? But spoiling you is a pleasure I so rarely have the chance to indulge,” he smiles in that self-assured way of his as Kanata passes him the book. “It seems as though the world is intent from stealing those few opportunities from me, if I allow myself to become too complacent.”

Kanata giggles and nods his head in agreement, though Natsume can’t say that he’s aware what _exactly_ the two must be agreeing on. “I’ll always be there for you whenever you ask, Rei-niisan. Maybe if you got better at using your phone, it would make our communications easier.”

“So I’ve been told,” Rei says, tucking the book under his arm with his umbrella. “Perhaps you can take a moment to instruct me again while we enjoy our drinks, hm?”

Rei’s always had a talent for subterfuge, and it’s not until the three of them begin walking towards the cafe area of the store that Natsume realizes that Rei’s hand had settled itself on his waist at some point. It acts as a gentle anchor to pull him closer to Rei’s side, and Natsume can only think to himself that oh, then this isn’t going to be the last time someone mistakes him for some sweet young thing being taken out on a date.

Which he isn’t.

Right?

* * *

  
  


Wataru and Shu greet them at the aquarium, the former with his signature amount of fanfare. Shu is more occupied fussing over Natsume and his work, adjusting and readjusting the short puff sleeves and picking invisible wisps of lint off the back of the skirt.

“The fit is acceptable. I am not embarrassed, at least— a feat, given how I was refused an in person fitting,” he says, giving a tug to the lace that runs along the square neckline, settling it back into place. “I can see the measurements Wataru gave me were accurate.”

Natsume is well aware of why the others must’ve given Shu such restrictions. If he’d known of their little plan beforehand, he would’ve skipped town, or the country, before they could invoke his graduation present and back him into a corner. With all of them finally gathered together, it gives him a chance to air his complaints in full … after Shu finishes fussing over him. It’s been too long since he had his undivided attention like this, and he’s not about to cut it short.

Kanata’s eager for them to start his ‘special’ tour after that, so Natsume decides to behave for a while longer. He takes Natsume and Shu’s hands and pulls them forward into the exhibits, Rei and Wataru following along behind. Each tank holds a riot of color and strange alien forms that Kanata retains near encyclopedic knowledge for, rattling off facts in his dreamy, lilting tones as the group migrates from one exhibit to the next. Wataru keeps taking pictures of him when he’s too engaged to notice and then slipping his phone out of sight when Natsume turns to try and take it from him. He gives up after the first dozen times, his final attempt being the one where he sends the fake hand Wataru’s switched with his real one flying off, knocking it right into the path of a small and easily distressed child.

He’s managed to forget the sound of the girl’s screaming by the time they reach the penguin enclosures, his thoughts having cleared enough to make a very important observation about the birds.

“These tall ones remind me of Shu-niisan,” Natsume says, crouched in front of the glass with Kanata at his side.

“Shu? I think they are more like Rei, they do not like getting ‘hot’ very much,” Kanata replies, staring back at the emperor penguin that seems to be fixated on the two of them.

“On the other hand, too much of the cold agitates my sore joints,” Rei chuckles behind them, not quite all the way back in the seating area where Shu and Wataru have paused to talk. “I’m more curious about what made you compare such creatures to Itsuki-kun in the first place, Sakasaki-kun.”

Natsume turns his head back to look at Shu, oblivious to their conversation behind Rei, and then back to the penguins. “The way they hold their beaks up, and seem to walk with their chests puffed out, they look like important little lords. Shu-niisan was like that all the time when we first met, when _he_ was the Emperor.”

Kanata giggles beneath his hand while Rei considers the birds with a thoughtful eye, watching one waddle across the fake rock of the enclosure and towards the edge of the water. A smile teases up the edges of his lips before he finally answers.

“My, our child has such a vivid imagination.”

There are more tanks and exhibits after that, Kanata overflowing with enthusiasm as he does his best to show off every inch of the aquarium to them. At some point they move out of the exhibit halls and into the back rooms that normal visitors don’t have access to, filled with stacks of tanks of new or recovering specimens that they haven’t made accessible to the public yet. Kanata is enthralled with the baby salamander that they’re still building the final enclosure for, and the other four eccentrics gather around the wrinkled, wall-eyed creature and assure Kanata with dutiful seriousness that it is, indeed, the cutest thing they’ve ever seen.

It’s only when they’ve circled back out to the sensory pools that it comes to Natsume; he never bothered to ask just how long this excursion was going to last.

“Wataru, we’re going to be late for the show if you keep dawdling here,” Shu says, checking his watch while he balances Mademoiselle on his other arm. 

Wataru responds without looking up from the starfish he’s been stroking with careful fingers. “Oh? We should have plenty of time if we all run at top speed. The theater’s not far from here at all!”

“As much as it pains me to go against one of the other three eccentrics, I’ll be taking Shu’s side, this time,” Rei interjects. “There are hours before sunset left. I won’t be able to expend much energy before daylight fades.”

“We’re going to see a play?” Natsume says as Shu herds him away from the open tanks and towards the handwashing station. 

He does as the colorfully illustrated signage instructs while Kanata waves goodbye to the small horde of rays that he’s attracted, flicking droplets of water off his hands that land on Wataru. 

“It’s a musical. I intervened in selecting the show,” Shu says, which Natsume translates to ‘my ongoing argument with Wataru over Andrew Lloyd Weber has left deep and lasting scars on my psyche’. It’s enough to make him finish drying his hands in silence and wait at Shu’s side for the other to finish.

It does, admittedly, feel much better walking around outside in his current attire with a group. Wataru takes up the front, walking backwards at a brisk pace while carrying on a conversation about seagulls with Kanata, while Natsume, Shu, and Rei trail behind. The trip to their next location is longer, closer to Shu’s prediction, and Natsume fills the time by asking Shu about his classes and Paris, Rei interjecting every so often with anecdotes from his few visits there.

With their leisurely pace, they arrive at the theatre a few minutes before the house lights go down. Natsume is thankful they have a private box, given the dispute that arises once they make it past ticketing and navigate the stairs. Shu takes his seat without fuss, taking out his phone to set it to silent in a practiced motion, but when Natsume goes to follow, a trio of sighs stop him before he can sit down.

“Nacchan …”

“Do you enjoy displaying such blatant favoritism, Natsume-kun? Torturing the rest of us like this is so cruel! How did we raise such a callous child?”

“What I believe they mean to say, Sakasaki-kun, is that after the time last year, wouldn’t it be better to choose someone besides Itsuki-kun to sit by this time?” Rei tries to be diplomatic about it, at least.

“The three of you are ridiculous,” Shu hisses as the houseights go down, rapidly encasing the theater in darkness. 

“But Nacchan has to listen to us,” Kanata pouts, not bothering to lower his voice as if to prove Shu’s point. “Those are the ‘rules’.”

“The spell works when the four of you agree on—” Natsume drops his own volume after an irritated look from Shu. “Something. If you’re all in agreement on a different seating arrangement, I’ll comply with your wishes. If you were each planning to appeal to me individually, however …”

Natsume can’t see Shu roll his eyes in the dark, but the emotion of it is written into his movements as he reaches up to grab him by the hand and pull him into the seat besides his own that Natsume originally went for. That’s all the permission he needs, and he ignores the chorus of distressed grumbles from the other three, focusing instead on the sound of the orchestra starting up and the rising curtain. 

They must sort things out … at some point. Natsume makes himself comfortable by leaning over onto Shu as the first act begins, and when he glances over somewhere into the second song, it’s Rei who’s sitting next to him, so he supposes that’s that.

Wataru switches seats with him during the intermission when he has to get up and make a work call, sprawling into Natsume’s space to interrogate him on every aspect of the show and what he’s thought of it so far, including the changes from the movie.

“This was … an animated _children’s_ movie?” Natsume asks, turning the brochure over in his hands with an incredulous look.

“Against all better judgment,” Shu confirms with a huff, which conveys his thoughts on the matter in a single sentence. 

Wataru just cackles and begins describing taking gargoyles, which works Shu up into a frothing pique of disgust that lasts until the lights go off again. Wataru does not give up the seat he hijacked, a move that may have not been planned, though judging by the look Rei shoots him upon his return, was more likely a careful act of deception.

Given the tone and themes of the musical, Natsume is unsurprised by the bleak ending, but still allows Kanata to tearily cling to him once the curtain falls and the audience begins to trickle out of the theater. “It was so sad. I do not feel like ‘eating’ at all now.”

“You’ll regain your appetite once we reach the restaurant,” Shu says, sounding distant as he checks the time on his phone. “Our reservation should be ready if we leave now, yes?”

Rei nods, the apparent recipient of the question. “Yes, I called this morning to confirm.”

Natsume isn’t really surprised that they’re taking him out to dinner at this point, it’s just … he didn’t expect them to use a free pass to ask him to do anything for them to go out and spend time together like they could under any other circumstances. Minus the dress. Maybe the dress was just that important. 

It’s dark out for the next leg of their journey, putting Rei in much higher spirits than he was for the walk from the bookstore or aquarium. It’s a much shorter trip than others, not more than a few blocks to an intimate and expensive looking Italian place. Rei’s show of his linguistic prowess to the waitress gives Natsume a heavy suspicion that this was his pick for the day, not that he’s complaining. He’s enjoyed everything they’ve done so far, and from a cursory glance at the menu, Natsume’s certain this place will meet all of his previously set expectations.

He says nothing when there’s a noted lack of squabble over seating arrangements, or when Rei orders a glass of wine, _or_ when he offers that glass to Shu, who accepts without batting a lash. Wataru utters a soft and airy “What a pair of delinquents you are, amazing~”, yet offers no more ribbing commentary for them than that. The conversations all turned subdued and quiet, taking on an almost intimate air. Natsume leans back in his seat with his menu in hand, shoulders sagging, his energy for the day finally beginning to flag.

“Someone else should order for me,” he says. “I can’t decide between all these options.”

“Fish, you should get fish, Nacchan.”

“Natsume-kun prefers flavors that contrast in his food, does he not? Perhaps we should ask if they’ll combine two dishes into one!”

“I’ll handle it, Sakasaki-kun,” Rei cuts in, interrupting the banter between Kanata and Wataru. From his seat to Natsume’s left, it’s a simple thing for him to reach over and smooth a few unruly strands of red hair back into place, his touch lingering afterwards. “Are you feeling well? Your spark seems to be fading as the hours drag on.”

“I’m just tired, Rei-niisan. I’ll feel better after I eat something,” Natsume leans away from Rei’s touch after deciding he’s indulged him enough. “Maybe that will make the prospect of the train ride home more appealing.”

“New Dimension can’t spare a car for one of its unit leaders?” Shu asks, his voice very much dripping with the sort of surprise and disdain that comes from someone in Cosmic Production being made to consider resource scarcity.

“Knights have a live tonight,” he says, as if it explains everything, and it really sort of does. “It’s already started by now, given the time.”

Rei hums, reaching to pick his glass of wine back up by the stem and lift it to his lips. “I’m sure between the four of us some alternate method of transportation can be secured for our dear child.”

“Or,” he adds, eyes fixed on the burgundy liquid that swirls around in his glass with each slight movement of his wrist. “Perhaps that thing Hibiki-kun prepared in case such a situation arose could come into use.”

“That thing?” Wataru looks up from where he’s been constructing a napkin octopus for Kanata. “But of course! _That thing_! Are we going to be putting it to use, Rei?!”

The vague phrasing the two are using makes Natsume sends alarm bells ringing in his head, but manages to keep a calm face on. Shu is faring worse, seeing how his brows have shot up into his hairline, eyes darting between Rei and Wataru. 

“Wataru reserved a room for us at a hotel, in case we wanted to have a ‘sleepover’,” Kanata blurts out, either from the intent to diffuse the situation before it starts, or more likely, to redirect Wataru’s attention back to the cloth octopus.

“Ah,” Natsume and Shu say in unison, posture relaxing to varying degrees.

“Yes, _that_ ,” Rei smiles, a fang catching at his bottom lip. “Perhaps we should adjourn there, once dinner has concluded. It will give Sakasaki-kun somewhere to recuperate in private, if nothing else.”

While there’s not much reason their secluded table in the restaurant can’t serve the same purpose, Natsume can admit to himself that it does sound nice. He didn’t plan for staying overnight, though Rei’s likely thought of ways to address that already, and regardless of the practical logistics he … really doesn’t want the day to end. It’s been nice spending time together like this, enjoying each other’s company in a way that hasn’t been possible since the older four’s graduation, not to mention Shu moving halfway across the world. The switch from Yumenosaki to ES has been tiring for all of them, the supposed promised land that was meant to justify their suffering as sacrificials lambs turning out to be just as flawed as everything that’s come before. 

In the past Natsume would think nothing of asking any of them for some small favor, but these days, his conscience is too quick to remind him of the pressure they’re all under. Their time feels too valuable for him to while away with his minor problems, let alone the kind of playing around they’ve done today. Kanata isn’t in the fountain if he wants to talk to him, Rei no longer a fixture of the light music room— they haven’t been together like this in weeks, maybe months. They can’t afford the luxury of wasting time in an entertainment district anymore, wandering from place to place as a group with a hundred little dialogues going on between the five of them, stopping at cafes or taking in shows or sitting down for meals.

Natsume misses it.

“That’s thoughtful of you, Rei-niisan. The hotel isn’t far from here?”

“Not at all.”

“As fixated as you all were on your childish element of surprise, it would’ve changed nothing in our plans to tell me about this before now,” Shu is already on his phone, typing out a message to whoever’s he’s about to make reschedule their plans for tonight. He might complain, but in the end, they all agree to move to one final location.

Natsume sips on the sparkling pomegranate juice Rei orders for him and tries not to look too blissfully content about it.


	2. ii

A ‘room’ is a slight understatement. It’s a penthouse suite that sits atop one of the brand new Tenshouin highrise hotels and takes up half of the highest floor. The keycard Wataru pulls from nowhere slides into the panel of the elevator they take, telling it which doors to open to let them into their sprawling glass and white granite lodgings.

“So much light,” Rei says in a way that can only be heard as a complaint, almost stumbling through the entryway, one hand hand to the wall as if he’s grasping around for direction in the dark.

Kanata has no such trouble, toeing off his shoes and taking off with an air of excitement to the huge row of windows that act as the far wall. It gives them a sweeping view of the city skyscrapers and the edges of the sea that lie beyond, thousands of lights from buildings and street lamps and signs creating a reflection of the starry sky beneath them.

In spite of the many dazzling features of the luxury apartment, once Natsume’s unlaced his boots and left them by the door, he heads straight for the living room area rather than inspect anything else. The huge sectional couch sits by an unlit fireplace with all pieces still fitted together, making it more of a giant plush square than a real piece of furniture. Natsume takes one very tall step up onto it, uncaring what flashes of skin such a maneuver might show off in a skirt. Most people in his current company have seen him in less. He walks to the far end, where the backrests congregate, and sits down in a corner spot, tucking his legs to the side before he fishes out his phone and starts checking his messages.

There were a few screenshots of Sora’s latest in game terraforming adventures and a lengthy exchange in the New Dimension leaders group chat that started off serious but had devolved into what was essentially Suoh fishing for dating tips from Mikejima. Not that many tags on social media, but after peeking into Wataru’s— plenty of people had seen the eccentrics on their day out, but the majority of those who had snapped pictures and put them up hadn’t been able to get a shot of Natsume. 

“Nacchan, is it comfy? Oh, it is,” Kanata’s voice interrupts Natsume’s internal speculation, his eyes lifting from his phone to see him making his way on his hands and knees across the sectional, heading directly for him.

“Did you get a good look at the ocean, Kanata-niisan?”

“Yes, it’s very ‘pretty’,” Kanata says with a serene smile, sidling his way right up next to Natsume before plopping himself down, leaving little room between them. “Are you feeling tired? You do not seem as excited about this as the other places we’ve been.”

“Rei-niisan said that this is a place for us to relax in. If I get too excited, it defeats the purpose.”

“Eh? It is all right if you get a little excited, isn’t it, Rei?”

Rei lets out a long, thoughtful hum from where he’s inspecting the well stocked dry bar, apparently having adjusted to the multitudes of lamps and lights. “The night is still young, Sakasaki-kun. It would be a shame to lose you to the temptations of sleep this early on.”

“Yes!” Wataru booms next to his ear which— is a thing that can happen, when he’s hanging over the back of the back of the couch, face dangerously close to Natsume. It sends reeling back and into Kanata’s chest, which Kanata doesn’t seem to mind, his little ‘oof’ of surprise quickly replaced by giggles. “Natsume-kun’s spell promised us whatever our hearts desired today, did it not? If our magician retires for the night, will he be casting spells for us in his sleep? Amazing!”

“I’m _relaxing_ , not falling asleep,” Natsume says while trying to wiggle away from Kanata, whose arms are now wrapping around his midsection.

Shu chooses this moment to emerge from one of the bedrooms, Mademoiselle no longer on his arm. “What is it you’re yelling about now, Wataru?”

“Shu, come sit with us,” Kanata replies instead, hugging Natsume to him insistently.

Wataru’s finished wriggling his way down to the cushions by the time Shu rounds the sectional to properly face them, sitting on Natsume’s opposite side and beaming at Shu with dangerous force. Shu looks at him, then at the cushions both Natsume and Kanata had to scale in order to reach their current positions, and back to him.

He perches on the edge of the farthest section, back straight, legs crossed, and turns his head to address Rei. “A glass of wine with dinner is something no civilized person would fault you for, my friend, but over-indulging in a country where you are still underage is unseemly.”  
  
“Hm? I’ve been looking for a glass to use for water, Itsuki-kun,” Rei blinks, guileless, holding up an empty champagne flute to showcase the fruits of his effort. He sets it down on the counter top, crossing his arms and leaning back against it, settling his gaze back on the other four before speaking again.

“Now, then, what Hibiki-kun said _does_ bear some reflection. There is only so long we can take advantage of the graduation gift Natsume-kun’s bestowed upon us— it would be a shame if we failed to make full use of it.”

Something in the way Rei speaks gives Natsume a moment of pause. There’s the slightest lilt to his voice that’s indicative of a scheme underway, a minor tell that Natsume’s picked up on after trailing him for so long. But today wasn’t supposed to be about scheming to get what he wanted, the entire point of the gift was that so the four of them wouldn’t have to goad or bribe Natsume into doing whatever stupid, cutesy thing they asked of him. Rei shouldn’t need to be springing any traps, so why does that smug look on his face make Natsume feel nothing but nervous?

“We shouldn’t ask Nacchan to do anything he ‘dislikes’ too much,” Kanata says, apparently having forgotten the part where they already put him in a dress.

“Ah, but his sullen heart dislikes so many things~” Wataru laments in an especially theatrical fashion, leaning against him with a heavy sigh.

Rei nods. “These are legitimate concerns. Perhaps the easiest thing to do, then, would be to ask something of Sakasaki-kun that we already know he’d enjoy?”

“Something we have already done before with him,” Kanata adds.

Natsume chances a glance over at Shu, who seems as bemused by the conversation going on between the cardinal eccentrics as he is. 

“Something _most_ of us have already done with him,” Wataru says from Natsume’s other side, sending the turning gears in his head into overdrive.

“Something like that would be … I think I have an idea,” Rei smiles, a hint of elongated fang showing behind his lips as he turns his eyes to Natsume. “Since we have the place to ourselves for the night, and nothing else on our agenda, it would be a perfect time for us to take each other to bed.”

Natsume’s thumbs freeze where they’ve been scrolling away at his Instagram feed, his thoughts ground to a violent and sudden halt as he mentally rewinds that last bit. He refuses to look up and at anyone else as several things push to the forefront of his thoughts all at once; ‘what’. ‘Did he actually say that out loud?’ comes not long after, followed by ‘Shu-niisan is _right there_ he can’t just _say that_ ’.

Shu, for his part, has already begun the first stage of his reaction;

“Rei, that joke is in poor taste, even for you.” Interpretation of insincerity

“Then let me assure you, Itsuki-kun, that I was being fully sincere in my words,” Rei says, and Natsume can hear the cracks of dismay begin to penetrate Shu’s dignified tone.

“I have no patience for these sort of childish pranks. I thought you had grown out of such behavior, but I see …” and this is where he errs, chancing a glance over to Natsume, then the other two, who are watching Shu with the sort of rapt attention usually reserved for large predators when they see something appetizing from the other side of inch thick glass.

“My, it seems absence has done the opposite of make Shu’s heart grow fonder. We’ve become unattractive beasts in his eyes, little more than animals— what cruelty to spurn poor Rei’s advances so openly!” Wataru sighs like a forlorn maiden giving a monologue.

“You _cannot_ be—”

“Shu didn’t ‘play’ around like the rest of us did during that time,” Kanata says, aimed toward Wataru but said loud enough for all of them to hear. “Maybe he is just feeling ‘shy’ because he was left out …?”

“What are you,” Shu eyes are beginning to dart between all of them at a frantic rate. “Are you saying that at some point you were all engaging in such … activities with each other?”

Under normal circumstances, this is around the time when Natsume would begin his attempt to make an unobtrusive exit and allow the other four to tire each other out with their back and forth. However, with Kanata’s arms still wrapped firmly around his middle, not to mention Wataru leaning on him from one side, it’s not as though he can just get up and leave.

“Ah, Shu, a true genius through and through. You were so devoted to maintaining the image and standing of your unit that year, the fact that the rest of us were whiling away the hours getting each other off slipped right past you!” Wataru shouts, more into Natsume’s ear than anywhere else, and he sends a quick jab of his elbow to the other’s rib cage in retaliation for it.

“Is that possible ...? Itsuki-kun has always been single-minded in his goals, an admirable trait, but to be able to ignore the rumors that would go around about me, back when I was still a vital young man,” Rei chuckles and shakes his head, like he’s remembering distant memories of his youth, and not things that happened two years ago. “The frequent talk of what I was misusing the student council office for … and the practice rooms … and the regrettable time that first year found me in the library, devoid of any pants or undergarments—”

“Rei _!_ ” 

Kanata winces when Shu nearly shrieks, hunkering down closer to Natsume. “Shu, there is no reason to be so ‘loud’.”

“It is— it is _unconscionable_ to speak of such matters in mixed company, Kanata!” Shu does not pick up on the subtle suggestion to regulate his volume, glaring over at Kanata and Wataru, one hand clutched to his head as though the situation is causing him physical pain.

“Shu, I don’t understand what you mean? ‘Mixed company’? We are all equals here,” Wataru lets the pause between his words hang overlong, as if waiting for someone to interrupt him. Natsume realizes too late that the opening was intended for him. “Oh, wait, I think I see. You’re under the impression that Natsume-kun was excluded from these things?”

“I thought we were clear enough in the preamble? But it seems as though that wasn’t sufficient—”

“ _Stop it_ ,” Natsume cuts Rei off before he can get any further. “You’re all just teasing him now. It’s embarrassing to watch a bunch of ‘adults’ play this sort of game.”

He really wants to try and get up, away from Kanata’s entrapping embrace, but the other clearly expects an escape attempt and tightens his hold.

“Eh, but it’s not like Nacchan’s methods are ‘effective’, though?” 

That’s nonsense to Natsume’s ears, and Kanata seems to suspect as much, letting out a long sigh. “Last year, you favored Shu a lot, didn’t you? Nacchan was always hanging around the handicrafts room, helping Valkyrie get ‘jobs’ or checking in on Shu. We were all worried about Shu then, but Nacchan was doing more than any of us to make sure he was all right.”

“But Shu is … Shu is very ‘smart’. That does not mean he is ‘aware’. He was not ‘aware’ of how Nacchan was going out of his way to do these things for his own good, I think? He did not notice how you were giving him more attention than the rest of us. I think he did not notice that you were ‘watching’ over him so much, or that you were doing it because you ‘like’ him,” Kanata gives him a little squeeze, fingers tickling his ribs over the fabric of his dress. “That’s how Shu is … he didn’t notice that we were all doing ‘intimate’ things during that time either.”

“I did that to be helpful, Shu-niisan was struggling after everything that happened.”

“Nacchan is not ‘helpful’ to many people. You were helping Shu because it was the right thing to do, not because you ‘liked’ him?”

“Yes— no, it was both, you did the same thing, Kanata-niisan.”

The others have all gone quiet now, watching the two of them in their extended exchange. Natsume doesn’t dare look at anyone but Kanata, doesn’t trust himself to try and catch so much as a glimpse of Shu. What Kanata’s saying isn’t something he wants aired out in front of the rest of them, but at the same time, if he protests anything too much Wataru or Rei will latch onto it and make their own attempts to turn things around on him.

Which is not the point. _He_ is not the one who’s attempting to get an orgy going here. He should be ones asking the questions, if anything.

“Oh, that is right. I did those things because I ‘like’ Shu very much and I wish for Shu to be ‘happy’. Nacchan feels the same, doesn’t he?” Kanata stares at him with those wide, sincere eyes and Natsume scrambles to find an answer that isn’t unabashed lying.

“Of course I care about Shu-niisan’s happiness,” he half mumbles, forcing himself not to break eye contact.

“So Nacchan wants Shu to be ‘happy’, but he does not ‘like’ Shu?”

“I never said I didn’t like Shu-niisan.”

“Nacchan tried to deny things he did after I said he ‘liked’ Shu. Do you mean you don’t like Shu that way? Do you not find Shu ‘handsome’?” Kanata says, leaning in as if he can pin Natsume in place with his earnest expression alone.

“Kanata—”

“No, no, I want to hear this,” Rei silences Shu’s interruption before he can get out more than a word. Natsume still doesn’t want to look at them, but Rei sounds closer than before, like he’s made his way from the bar over to the couch.

“Shu-niisan is … handsome,” he replies, because to say otherwise would be an outright lie, and more importantly, Shu was always sensitive about his looks.

Kanata hums, nodding his head seriously. “Shu is ‘handsome’. Have you ever thought about ‘kissing’ Shu?”

Natsume is reminded of how close Wataru’s remained for this entire conversation when he tries to lean back and is blocked by the bulk of him, still encroaching on his space. “Don’t be so shy, Natsume-kun, anything you say will be kept secret in the confines of this room.”

“Shu-niisan is the only one I would have to _think_ about kissing in the first place because I’ve already done the real thing with the rest of you,” Natsume feels his patience fraying, the snap in his words coming out harder than he intended, and when he turns his head to face Wataru directly in order to rebuke him,

And finds himself wishing he didn’t, because Wataru is smiling that smile of a cat who’s swallowed an entire cage of birds, the sort of expression he reserves for playing the role of a villain. He feels fingers ghosting beneath his chin, coaxing, inviting him to be lured in further.

“That’s right, isn’t it? I can’t help but feel as though I was cheated of something, by indulging you so easily. Natsume-kun’s flustered, pining faces are an _amazing_ sight to behold. Perhaps if I had strung you along for a while longer, I would’ve been able to see such things for myself,” he strokes Natsume’s skin with a touch that seems too delicate and fleeting for the way Wataru’s breathing hot and heavy into his ear. “But on the other hand, I’ve seen you naked, and Shu hasn’t.”

There’s nothing Natsume can say to that, and part of him knows he isn’t meant to. This is what Wataru does, after all— rave like a lunatic just long enough for people to forget he’s dangerous, then turn everything around with a change of tone and a few well chosen words. Natsume can only think of how hot his face feels, and how Kanata’s arms are effectively trapping him in place, and how Wataru’s hand wasn’t on his knee a moment ago, but it’s found a place there now. He’s dizzy, vertigo seizing him as though he were peering out those windows rather than sitting down, likely another facet of Wataru’s brand of magic. 

Normally, Wataru is all about the wait, the chase, the buildup. Natsume’s seen how he enjoys letting people dangle on the end of a rope, in every sense of the word, and has been on the receiving end of it himself. Part of him expects Wataru to launch into another topic, turn his attention to embarrassing Shu next, but finds his lips being pressed into a kiss instead.

It’s not surprising, or at least it shouldn’t be, given everything that preceded it. That doesn’t stop Natsume’s breath from catching in his throat or his body from going rigid for a brief moment. If his reaction gives Wataru any pause, he doesn’t show it, the hand on his leg moving further up, fingers spreading out on his bare thigh. This much is familiar, the warmth of Wataru’s lips against his own and the fire that spreads out through his body from each point of contact.

What’s not familiar is the weight of Kanata against his side or how his arms remain curled around his waist. He knows that Shu and Rei are mere feet away, undoubtedly watching this happen, even if they’ve gone quiet for the moment, which is a strange development in an already strange situation. 

“Wataru,” Kanata breathes out against Natsume’s hair, quiet and pouting. “I want to do it too.”

Natsume isn’t the sort of person who gets off on having an audience. That being said, it’s hard to smother the noise of protest he makes when Wataru pulls back, the sudden lack of pleasant heat is something he can’t help but complain about. 

While his lips are farther away, Wataru’s hand remains on Natsume’s chin, using it to direct his head away to his opposite side, to face Kanata. 

“I’m not a doll you can position however you like,” he says, words trailing off towards the end as Kanata giggles, leaning in to bump their noses together.

“Nacchan doesn’t dislike it so much,” Kanata beams at him, his eyes glowing like one of Natsume’s special potions. He says it like a statement, and gives Natsume no time to argue otherwise.

Kissing Kanata has always been a very all or nothing sort of deal. He’s either content to lazily slide mouths together for a small eternity, taking his time to luxuriate in the sensation, or he wants to kiss like the way he’s kissing Natsume right now. There’s no waiting period or warning before Kanata shoves his tongue into his mouth, eliciting a startled yelp from Natsume that does nothing but encourage him.

He can feel his pulse pounding in his ears as Kanata presses him to tilt his head further and further back. Wataru continues to ruck up his skirt and the underlayers of chiffon all the while, one hand sliding feather-light along his inner thigh while the other drifts lower, trailing down to rest on his shoulder. Natsume’s already begun to mirror Kanata’s movements, letting their tongues slip against each other the way Natsume knows he likes, the pleased noises Kanata makes building that inescapable kind of warmth within him, urging him on.

The worst thing about this is that he doesn’t even think to try and put a stop to it. His facade of indifference crumbles in the face of any real affection from these four, all of his ugly, human desires spilling out for them to make a mess of. Wataru, as always, is the first to get there, pushing more and more black cloth away until what he’s wearing beneath is revealed, and Shu’s squawk of indignation is enough to distract both Natsume and Kanata.

“Wataru, _what did you—”_   
  
“What? Oh, this?” Wataru says as he hooks a finger beneath the elastic of the simple, arguably tasteful black panties that were provided to Natsume along with the rest of his outfit. Which, judging by Shu’s tone, were not included in his original design. “You didn’t specify anything, so I used my best judgment to choose something that would match! Do you like it? You sound like you don’t like it!”

Shu is beet red when Natsume turns his head just enough to see what he’s been doing at the far end of the expansive couch. Rei’s now sitting next to him, close enough that he can rest his weight against his back, lips curled up in a sharp-edged smile that betrays his lax posturing. 

“If I had known you were going to do something so,” Shu directs his words toward Wataru, decidedly avoiding eye contact with Natsume at all costs. “So crass, I would have never agreed to be a party to such a thing!”

It’s not all Wataru’s fault, part of Natsume’s logic argues. He was the one stupid enough to go along with it when the package arrived that morning. Really, he should’ve known better. Shu was far too uptight to ever include something so undeniably erotic into one of his outfits, hidden to most eyes or no. The fact that it was something the other three would’ve gone all in on without a second thought is what made him assume it was a full group decision— a mistake on his part.

“Oh, I see! That does give us a problem,” Wataru flicks his thumb, snapping the elastic against Nastume’s overheated skin, a sensation that’s jarring enough to kickstart his brain back into action. He moves his own hand to grab at Wataru’s wrist, his other attempting to push his skirt back down to cover himself properly again. 

This is fine, he tells himself, this isn’t out of his control yet. Yes, maybe Wataru did just flash Rei and Shu his barely clothed crotch, but he’s been in more embarrassing situations than this with the rest of them, probably. He can still navigate out of this one.

“Wataru-niisan, you’re being—”

“So Shu does not want to ‘kiss’ Nacchan?” Kanata sounds louder than before in Natsume’s ear, as if he’s increased his volume in order to speak over him. “What about other things? Would you be interested in that?”

“You may need to be more specific than that, Shinkai-kun,” Rei interjects from where he’s still lounging against Shu, content to play a passive role for the time being.

Natsume tries to object, but Shu does the same, creating a jumbled cacophony that Kanata cuts through with ease, cutting through the noise like a ringing bell. “Would it be better to say it? Or …”

There’s no good explanation for why Natsume turns his head to look at Kanata then. It’s a stupid move on his part, coming face to face with big green eyes that seem to peer into his very soul, capable of seeing through his layers of artifice and remembering every unfortunate detail of all the _things_ Natsume’s happily done in the past in the past (not that Kanata should know the specifics of what he got up to with Wataru and Rei unless the three of them had been talking about it, and judging by their behavior here, that seems to be exactly what happened).

“We could show Shu something, and he can decide from that,” Kanata says, one hand unwrapping from around Natsume’s waist in order to move up and gently stroke his hair. “Shu, would you watch that? Nacchan looks very ‘cute’ when he gets ‘excited’.”

The fact that Kanata doesn’t ask him whether or not _he’s_ all right with doing whatever he has in mind doesn’t go over Natsume’s head, as if it’s a given that he’ll just go along with this. It would be insulting if a scenario very similar to this hadn’t played out across a multitude of his wet dreams over the past few years, heady images that some animal part of his brain warns that Kanata will just be able to uncover somehow if he attempts to say otherwise. Lying to Kanata is a feat beyond his abilities.

Rei’s been moving at a slow and steady pace to drape himself over Shu, taking advantage of distraction Natsume and the others present. His arm now hangs over Shu’s shoulder, a casual sort of move that’s unsuited to his current image, but one Natsume remembers well from the past.

“It’s often said that new experiences are vital to the creation and growth of one’s art, Itsuki-kun,” Rei says, close enough to Shu’s ear to make his head twist back in a startled movement to look at him.

“This is far from the sort of inspiration I need for crafting my art!”

“But it’s ‘helped’ you before, Shu,” and whatever Kanata means by that is a mystery to Natsume, but apparently something Shu understands well, judging by the way the red blotching his face begins to spread with a vengeance. “You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. There’s no harm in ‘watching’.”

The hand Kanata has on Natsume’s head comes to a stop after one final stroke over his hair, resting at the crown of his head. Kanata is smiling at him again, as frank and open as ever, though in this situation, that’s not a thing Natsume can trust. 

“If Nacchan’s still ‘tired’, we can do something ‘easy’.”

Wataru, gone relatively silent behind him (which is never a good sign), has removed his hands from beneath Natsume’s skirt, resting them on his waist instead as Kanata begins to unwrap his own arms from where they’ve been hanging on Natsume’s midsection. 

“If you use your mouth—”

“Blowjobs aren’t easy, Kanata-niisan,” Natsume can’t help but object, scowling up at him. Sure, maybe for the person getting them there wasn’t much to it, but Natsume doubts that he’s going to be the one receiving.

“I’ll help, I’ll help,” Kanata says, puffing his cheeks out. He moves his hand that’s still on Natsume’s head to thread through his hair, a movement he thinks is meant to be comforting, until those fingers curl and tug, just enough to send heat pooling low in Natsume’s stomach. “I wouldn’t make Nacchan do all of the ‘work’.”

It’s embarrassing how little force it takes for Kanata to push his head down, coax him to lean over until he has to put his hands on the cushions to hold himself up. Kanata sits up onto his knees to put Natsume’s face directly in front of his crotch, and it’s in that moment that the weight of the situation hits Natsume in full— he’s about to suck dick with an audience, and the part of him that should be horrified at the idea only gets more excited.

True to his word, with the pull of a zipper and slide of his underwear, Kanata gets his cock out without any assistance from Natsume. When he tries to reach one of his own hands up, Kanata shakes his head, scolding. “I told you, I’m helping.”

If it was going to be like that, there’s not much else for Natsume to do. He keeps his eyes forwards, tongue swiping out against his lips before he leans in, giving the head of Kanata’s cock a light, fleeting lick. It tastes familiar enough, like skin and salt, and the quiet ‘ah’ Natsume hears from above urges him on. He lets his mouth fall open, Kanata beginning to feed his still soft cock to him while murmuring soft praises, most of the length fitting comfortably while only partially aroused.

Kanata stops him again with the hand in his hair when he tries to bob forward and take more in. “I’ll help you move when I want you to,” he says, holding him in place. It’s an order said in the soft, affectionate tone of his beloved ‘brother’, but an order all the same. Natsume huffs out a breath, letting his tongue curl and slide against the flesh in his mouth, slicking it up the best he can as he feels it begin to grow heavier.

Behind him, Wataru’s begun to move again. He lifts Natsume up by the waist to set him in a kneeling position, putting him on all fours. It’s hard for Natsume to guess at what he’s thinking when there are other things occupying him, but he can’t ignore the feeling of his skirt being pushed up and back again, or how Wataru’s hands move right along to settle on the curve of his ass soon after.

He’s being pulled off Kanata’s cock before he can become too distracted by it, the spit that slicks his lips leaving a wet, shining strand still caught on the now flush head of the other’s length. 

“‘Good’ boy, ‘good’ boy,” Kanata murmurs, the hand in his hair tightening, and for the first time Natsume fully realizes what he meant by ‘helping’. Dragging him back and forth like a ragdoll until he chokes doesn’t really fall under Natsume’s definition of the word, but it’s not like he can back out now.

(Well, he could, and this would all grind to a halt into an instant, and they’d all immediately begin to fuss over him, which is by far the worse option.)

It’s harder to take as much the next time Kanata rocks in, his lips having to stretch wider, drool leaking out onto his chin as the weight drags heavier than before against his tongue. He’s too focused on taking it to notice exactly when Wataru slides his panties part of the way down, exposing his skin to the cool air, but Natsume can’t ignore how it feels when he rolls a finger against the rim of his hole.

“It’s fine, Nacchan, look at me,” he must’ve made a noise, because Kanata is showering him in praise again, then demanding his attention when he tilts his head back, forcing his mouth to open wider and eyes to angle up. “It will feel ‘good’ for you too.”

Natsume isn’t given time to ponder what that means when Kanata thrusts into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat in a way that makes him scramble to suppress his gag reflex. The strangled noise he makes is muffled, but Kanata clearly enjoys it all the same, more color rising high on his cheeks while he rolls his hips.

He needs to focus on not choking, keeping his mouth slack as Kanata begins to shallowly move in and out of his mouth, never quite pulling all of the way out, but Wataru isn’t finished with him yet. With his hands holding him up and Kanata keeping him in place, there’s nothing he can do when he feels Wataru pressing kisses to the bottom of his spine, then his tailbone, and then lower, parting the seam of his ass to tease something wet and hot against the ring of muscle there. 

It’s— it’s not bad, exactly. Too much for Natsume to process with his mouth full, sort of gross if he stops to think about it, but not bad. His own technique has gone from sloppy to nonexistent on Kanata’s dick, drool already starting to leak out of the corners of his mouth. He’s little more than a warm hole for Kanata to fuck into right now, overwhelmed to the point of forgetting to breathe for a second when Wataru’s tongue pushes past his rim. His eyes go wide and when he cries out Kanata thrusts in hard, enough to make him choke. 

“Kanata!”

“He is ‘fine’, though, see?” Natsume can’t tell who was the one to speak first. Shu, if he had to guess, not that it matters, because Kanata is right. It’s not like he makes Natsume stay in that position for long, pulling all the way out, demonstrating to their concerned onlooker that relief is easy to bring. “Nacchan, you are ‘fine’ aren’t you?”

“Kanata-niisan, it’s … _ah_ —” he doesn’t know how to answer that, can’t, with the way his mind’s gone blank. Wataru’s tongue isn’t inside him anymore, lapping teasingly at his entrance again, pressing down hard enough every so often to remind him of the threat of penetration. 

Words will only fail him at this point. It’s easier to turn his head, pressing his spit-slick lips to the shaft of Kanata’s cock, feeling the satisfying scratch of nails as his fingers dig ever so slightly into his scalp.

“There’s no need to worry, Itsuki-kun,” that must be Rei, still off to the side. “We’d never ask something of Sakasaki-kun that he wouldn’t enjoy.”

And no matter what he might say about it later, Natsume _is_ enjoying this. He moves without any prompting from Kanata to open his mouth again, drags his tongue along the others length from base to tip and laves quick, kittenish licks to the slit where precome’s already begun to dribble out. There’s no denying the moans from Kanata above him, that Natsume was the cause of them, that his attention can only be on the one giving him that pleasure. 

It’s Natsume’s turn to be noisy when Wataru penetrates him again, slipping in deep enough to make his legs and arms tremble beneath him. The hand that isn’t spreading him open slides between his legs, palming over the thin layer of fabric that still traps his cock inside of the panties. Heat coils through Natsume’s body, every touch he feels starting to mount, the cry that passes from his lips prematurely silenced when Kanata guides his mouth back onto his cock, now hotter and heavier than ever when it weighs down on his tongue.

“That’s ‘good’, Nacchan, ‘good’ boy,” he coos, sweet and soothing as he rolls his hips and forces Natsume to take all of him. 

Wataru’s pumping him properly now, punctuating the way his tongue undulates in and out of him, working at steady pace, fucking Natsume open. Kanata mirrors those movements on his mouth, holding Natsume’s head close as he makes short, demanding thrusts that force Natsume to swallow around him.

It’s too much, and having his mouth full isn’t enough to silence the flood of desperate noises coming out of him, whines and mewls that he knows are just getting the other two more worked up. There’s nothing he can do, pinned between them like he is, but try to keep himself upright and remember to breathe— Wataru and Kanata are taking care of the rest for him.

Even if he knows it’s building, can feel all his nerves start to crackle in a way that arches his spine, there’s no way for him to warn either of them of it. When his vision whites out and he comes into the panties still wrapped around his dick Wataru doesn’t stop his hand or his tongue, working him through at the same unrelenting pace as before that makes Natsume’s hips sag and shake. 

Kanata says something, he thinks, the only warning he gets before his cock twitches and hot cum spills over into Natsume’s mouth. He’s held there with his nose brushing up against the skin of Kanata’s pelvis until he finishes swallowing, feeling both him and Wataru slip out of his body from both ends once he’s done.

As unanchored and light as he feels, he finds himself swaying unsteadily until Kanata nudges him over to lay on his side, his head resting on his thigh. Wataru pulls the soiled panties down, over his legs, to toss them onto the floor in a quick businesslike motion. 

While that was all happening, Natsume can now see that Rei and Shu weren’t just watching. Shu’s clothing is in disarray and Rei has one hand shoved down the front of his pants, jerking in a steady motion that can’t be mistaken for anything else. Natsume watches, mesmerized, the way Shu’s chest rises and falls at an unsteady rate, the dark blush that’s spread out like a stain down his face and neck, the distant look in his half-lidded that are fixed on him, because— Shu wasn’t _just_ watching him. 

Shu was getting off to watching him.

It’s much too soon for that feeling of fire to spark back to life in him, but Natsume finds himself having to press his legs together all the same, biting the inside of his cheek to try and keep himself grounded.

“Sakasaki-kun,” Rei purrs, lips curled in amusement as his gaze measures up and down the length of Natsume’s body. “After a display like that, I think it’s only fair if we allow you to ask for something that _you_ would like.”

Even in his post-orgasm haze, Natsume can discern the unsubtle implication behind Rei’s words. It chafes at his pride that Rei expects him to be led so easily into an obvious ploy, but then, he’s the one who can’t tear his eyes at that sliver of now exposed skin above the waist of Shu’s pants. 

“Something I’d like,” he repeats, forcing himself to turn his attention to Rei. There are a multitude of questions he could ask him, about how much of this was planned, and why they hadn’t simply included Shu in those discussions rather than springing it on him now. Did they think Natsume had a better chance at convincing him to engage in a lurid tryst than the rest of them? The idea seems ridiculous to him— it’s not as if Shu favors him more than the other any of the eccentrics, and Natsume’s feelings towards Shu are—

It’s a good thing that Shu is so single minded in his views, in a lot of ways. It allows him to focus on his art and let other, unimportant things fade into the background. Natsume would only be embarrassed, really, if he had caught on to all the things Kanata had pointed out earlier. He didn’t need Shu’s thanks or attention, as long as he was content and successful in his endeavours. 

Natsume isn’t a child that needs constant acknowledgement from the people he cares about. He doesn’t like people fussing. It’s fine if Shu never looks at him with the same amount of affection that he reserves for his dolls, never touches him with that kind reverence. Even if Natsume did have the chance to capture Shu’s complete attention for once and bring him pleasure in a way that would be impossible for anyone else to replicate, it’s not as if Shu would ever be interested in doing something like that with him.

That’s what Natsume would’ve told himself under any other circumstances, at least. It’s not as easy to maintain that stance when Shu is right in front of him, undeniably aroused from seeing him debased by two of their closest friends. 

“I don’t want to ask anything of Shu-niisan that he wouldn’t be comfortable with,” is what he finally settles on saying, gaze drifting off to the side to avoid the other’s reactions.

“Oya? Natsume-kun is favoring Shu again, how unexpected!” Wataru crows behind him, sounding as boisterous as ever.

“Itsuki-kun, our child is asking after you.”

“I can— I _heard_ him, Rei, if you would cease your, your manhandling—”

Rei slips his hand out from beneath the waist of Shu’s pants, leaning his weight off of the other’s back at the same time. “Is it fair to call it ‘manhandling’ when you were enjoying it so much? Or is that what you’re interested in …”

Shu sputters some half-coherent nonsense that fails to sound at all threatening like he means it to. Rei’s responding laugh is dark and predatory, and he sounds fully capable of pursuing things to their natural end all on his own. That might be nice to see at some point, but Natsume’s natural instinct to be selfish demands more than just acting as a spectator.

“Would you like it better if you were the one doing the touching, Shu-niisan?” Natsume still doesn’t look up, knowing the gentle blush on his face will turn into something violent if he makes eye-contact with any of them right now. “You could try it. With me.”

The words seem to sting his tongue as they leave his mouth, like he’s trying to take a sip of burning hot tea. While being flirtatious and bold with his female fans comes like a second nature to him, saying the same sort of thing to someone he holds in such high regard as Shu leaves him feeling like the awkward teenager he tries so hard not to be.

“Natsume-kun seems to be inviting you to have your way with him, Shu.”

“I would like to see that.”

Kanata and Wataru giggle on either side of him, the former dropping one hand down to smooth out the mess he made of Natsume’s hair only a few minutes ago.

“A generous offer. What do you say, Itsuki-kun?”

When Natsume does chance a glance back in Rei and Shu’s direction, he finds that Shu with a hand pressed to his brow, with his eyes fixed on some far off point to the side and his face turned red in utter embarrassment. It’s difficult for Natsume not to read rejection into that, the unkind parts of his mind jumping to the worst possible conclusion without a moment's hesitation. Of course it would mortify Shu to hear such a thing, even if he seemed fully receptive to Rei’s advances, it’s not as if he would want to do anything like that with him.

“None of you miscreants put him up to this, did you?” Shu says, after a long and heavy pause.

“No,” Natsume sits up, ducking away from Kanata’s touch. “I’d never say something like that at the suggestion of someone else, and—”

—and it’s not as if he’s ever going to get a chance like this again, outside plotting from the rest of the eccentrics or not. 

He looks down again, at the wrinkled fabric that’s fallen to back over his thighs to keep him from being wholly exposed. There’s no lace on the hem, devoid of signature accents that Shu would put on most of his designs, made with the intent to be tasteful and clean, with the intended model’s aversion to dresses to begin with kept clearly in mind. 

“You have to know that I wouldn’t wear this if anyone else asked. I did it for Shu-niisan, so … you might as well take full advantage of it.”

It may be the most mortifying thing Natsume’s said in recent memory, and the way Shu’s mouth hangs open, aghast, is an acknowledgement of that much. It’s a more fitting reaction than what Rei and the other two give him, which is nothing short of simpering rejection.

“What a cruel child, to say something so callous in front of the rest of us,” Rei shakes his head mournfully. “It would make it that much more insulting if Itsuki-kun rejected you now, after such a statement.”

“You are _incorrigible_ ,” Shu turns to snap in Rei’s ear. “What is it that you want me to say, Rei?!”

“Perhaps that you’ll fuck Natsume-kun and let us watch,” Wataru supplies, smiling from ear to ear. “Shu wouldn’t use that kind of language, though, let me think—”

The near shriek Shu lets out makes his regret of asking in the first place clear, and Natsume is about to turn and tell Wataru off himself when he finds his center of gravity being thrown suddenly off course. One moment he’s sitting up and the next Wataru’s scooped him up into his arms, his body lifted from the cushions as Wataru rises to stand, one foot already planted on the back of the couch.

“But you’re right, my friend! Such a performance requires the proper setting! Let’s move location to somewhere more fitting.” 

Or, in layman's terms, Wataru means to say that he’s going to carry him princess style to one of the plush bedrooms, dump him onto an oversized bed and expect the rest of them to follow after. Natsume isn’t so cowed that he goes along without a fight, but Wataru takes every indignant smack to his shoulder without a single flinch. 

“Don’t pick me up like that, I’m not a child,” Natsume hisses, planting a hand on Wataru’s cheek and forcing his head back when he tries to lean in. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Lots and lots of times~” Kanata says from the doorway, traipsing in after them. He must’ve abandoned his pants somewhere on the way, and he works on unbuttoning his shirt as he perches on the edge of the bed next to Wataru, smiling at the two of them. “It’s not something I try. I know how ‘fussy’ it makes Nacchan.”

“It’s disrespectful, Kanata-niisan, I’ve explained this to you all several times,”

“Ah, is he being fussy again?” Rei lopes into the room with Shu in tow, an arm around his shoulders in order to steer him in the direction of the bed. “Such a temperamental child.”

The pair stops at the foot of the bed, Rei casting a sidelong leer in Shu’s direction. “You never gave him a direct answer, Itsuki-kun, but know that if your hesitation is from lack of experience, the rest of us will be happy to provide direction.”

“The lot of you are shameless,” Shu snaps, shrugging Rei’s arm off of him. “This is something I already knew. Dragging the brat into your depraved activities is unforgivable, and now he’s taken after your poor examples.”

He says all these things, arms crossed and lips fixed into a frown, but the depth of his actual annoyance sounds increasing shallow as he continues on. “However, denying him in any way after and leaving my friends on poor terms before I return to France is … a sin even I dare not commit.”

“That is an impressively indirect way to agree to have sex with someone, Shu,” Wataru says in all seriousness. “You’ve managed to outdo yourself once again! Amazing!”

“I don’t want your praise for something like this!”

If Natsume lets them, he knows this can and will go on indefinitely. The other three eccentrics are looking for a show in one form or another, and Shu has always been easy to bait. 

He sits up, reaching out to gently take hold of Shu’s wrist, forcing him to redirect his attention from Wataru’s smug grin and waggling eyebrows. 

“Shu-niisan, it’s hard to touch you if you won’t come closer,” Natsume says, drawing on every once of control he can to keep his voice steady and sure.

Shu’s eyes widen, expression turning flustered, and it really is unfair how handsome he is, even when utterly mortified. Kanata had been right about that much.

The mattress barely shifts when Shu joins the rest of them on it, a testament to its quality. He kneels in front of Natsume, close enough to make it easy for him to reach out again, fingers grasping at the collar of his shirt. Thinking about this too much won’t help with anything, and besides, Natsume’s imagined it often enough that he has a good idea of what to do. 

Natsume tugs him down, pulling Shu’s face closer to his own, until their noses are in danger of brushing against one another and Natsume can feel Shu’s breath against his skin. The scent of his cologne has faded, not much besides the memory of roses and oud remaining. It’s a combination that’s unfamiliar to him, something new he must’ve picked up while abroad, and it’s that reminder of how time sensitive this all is that urges Natsume to close the remaining gap between them.

Tension overtakes every muscle of Shu’s body when their lips connect, and while it’s tempting to back off, Natsume decides to keep pushing. He guides Shu’s hand to rest on his waist, over the dark fabric of his dress, taking quick and toothless nips at his bottom lip. Shu’s reactions are stiff, but they _are_ reactions, warm sighs of breath that become more heated with every passing second, the weight of his free hand circle around to cradle the back of Natsume’s head. It’s a positive enough reception that Natsume’s emboldened to move things along.

He leans back, pulling Shu along, letting gravity overtake the both of them. His back hits the mattress without a sound and now Shu is hovering above him, blinking down in surprise, which Natsume answers with a smile.

“It’s fine to touch me more than just this, Shu-niisan,” he says, ignoring the breakneck rhythm of his own feverish heartbeat.

“Please do,” Rei quips from the side. Shu shoots him a glare, or tries to, his eyes widening instead when he gets a glimpse of whatever it is the other three are doing— Natsume has a few guesses, but that’s not his concern at the moment.

“Shu-niisan,” Natsume tries again, using his thumb to undo the top button of Shu’s neatly pressed shirt. “You already took your turn watching.”

That’s enough to recapture his attention, the pretty blush deepening on Shu’s cheeks again, as if the reminder of acting as voyeur earlier was more embarrassing than having Natsume underneath him now. “There’s nothing gained from rushing these things, brat.”

“I can be patient,” he lies, feeling less patient in this moment than he ever has before. “If someone makes it worth my while.”

Shu sees through him, judging by the skeptical quirk of his brow, which Natsume can’t help but think is a bit unfair, given how oblivious Shu is to other’s emotions most of the time. He tests his luck by going for the next button, not bothering to stop and gauge Shu’s expression again. Hesitating more won’t do him any good, and if Shu doesn’t like it, he’ll just have to say something.

Or do something, like move the hand on Natsume’s waist to his thigh, still clad in the black patterned socks that go just below where Shu’s now resting his thumb. Natsume swallows, mouth suddenly dry, willing his hand to continue working down the front of his shirt, to finish what he started.

Part of him wants to ask if Shu intends to take anything off him, the socks or the dress, but he thinks he already knows. Even if he’ll never admit to it like the others will, Shu’s tastes are just as obvious as the rest of the eccentrics. 

By the time he finishes and Shu’s shirt hangs open over him, allowing Natsume to see and touch the skin laid bare beneath, he can feel the hand resting on his inner thigh begin to make its way up. The underwear he’d been wearing early was back on the floor of the other room, left where Wataru discarded it, so there’s nothing there to dull the contact of when Shu’s fingers reach the top of his leg. Natsume’s breath begins to quicken, and he lifts his head to capture Shu’s lips again, muffling the sound he makes as his cock begins to stir back to attention.

Shu doesn’t resist when Natsume tilts his head to deepen the kiss this time, not shying when he uses his teeth or tongue to tease at his mouth. His movements remain controlled and measured, even when Natsume reaches around to drag his nails against the other’s back, eliciting a low noise from Shu that makes pleasure coil smugly in Natsume’s chest.

His feeling of self-satisfaction doesn’t last for long, the confident face he’s put on beginning to fracture as soon as Shu’s palm brushes against Natsume’s half-hard length. He bucks up into his touch, seeking more, his aforementioned ‘patience’ thrown to the wind. 

“Shu-niisan,” Natsume says, unable to keep the whine from his voice even while he tries to put on a playful, coy face. “You have beautiful hands.”

“There’s no need for such flattery,” Shu murmurs.

“I want to feel more of them … on me, or inside of me, _ah_ —”

That does the trick, Shu taking in him in hand with a scoff while his face burns with embarrassment. “You are shameless.”

Natsume hums in total agreement, happy to throw pretense aside as long as it gets him what he wants. His grip is careful, as if he’s afraid that the contact will somehow burn the both of them, but even the lightest pump of his fist around Natsume’s cock is more than enough to make the boy under him tremble and gasp. He lets his head fall back to the bed in the same moment that his hips rock up, keening softly when Shu tightens his grip around him and sends heady warmth curling through his body. 

“Sakasaki-kun,” the velvet rumble of Rei’s voice makes Natsume blink, his blurred vision focusing for long enough to identify the object that’s appeared mere centimeters above his face. “You’ll have to show Itsuki-kun what to do, if he doesn’t already know.”

Why Rei thinks it’s a good idea to try and hand Natsume a bottle of lube when he’s clearly preoccupied, Natsume will never guess.

“I know what to do,” Shu says, snatching it away before Natsume has to take it himself. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“The rest?” Rei asks, the picture of innocence.

“The— the _condoms_.”

“Mm, well,” Rei’s hand brushes Natsume’s cheek, stroking him like a spoiled pet. “He’s been accustomed to going without. I don’t foresee him having any objections, unless you do, Itsuki-kun?”

Natsume’s attention wanders while Rei and Shu continue their verbal playfight, drifting to look behind Rei where Kanata’s sprawled out, his positioned head between Wataru’s open legs. Wataru, for his part, is watching the other three with a flushed bemusement, giving Natsume a coy wink when he catches his eye.

His attention only snaps back into focus when he notices the pillow passed over him. He obliges Shu’s quiet murmurs directing him to lift his hips without thinking, watching in bated silence while he shucks his pants off and opens the bottle, not even thinking to complain that he’s no longer being touched when he sees the strain of Shu’s cock, hard and prominent through his black briefs. Natsume stays quiet and watches with rapt attention, his legs falling open further when Shu finally positions his hand at Natsume’s entrance, hesitantly pressing against the already slick skin there.

“It’s all right,” Natsume says, offering up another teasing smile. “If it’s Shu-niisan, I’ll take whatever you have to give me.”

The tension strung throughout Shu’s body relaxes on his exhale, his brows furrowing as he begins to slip a finger in slowly, almost teasing. “There’s no use putting on that kind of face for me, boy. Even I’m not so blind as to be fooled by such an act.”

Thanks to Wataru’s earlier efforts, it’s easy for Shu to push in further, his other hand going to steady Natsume’s thigh, holding him still while he works. It’s not a new sensation to Natsume by any definition of the word, the feeling of being penetrated with the intent to acclimate him for more, but having Shu be the one to do it is certainly novel. There’s a serious look on his face with each minute shift of his hand, every movement deliberate, filled with the same sort of intensity that overcomes him when working on a piece of elaborate embroidery or an intricate composition. 

He doesn’t give him a warning when he adds a second finger, not that Natsume needs one, nothing but a soft gasp escaping from his lips to betray his surprise. The last thing he wants to do is look away, but he feels it more now when Shu’s fingertips rub and curl inside of them, the intrusion deeper than Wataru’s tongue could reach, and he finds his eyes slipping partway shut before he can help it. 

“Shu-niisan, can you—” 

And then Shu stops moving his hand, blinking down at him with clear concern, which is the last thing Natsume wants. “Don’t stop, just, come here,”

He pulls at the hem of Shu’s open shirt, urging him to lean down, until he’s close enough that Natsume can reach up and wrap his arms around Shu’s neck.

“What happened to being patient?” Shu says, too subdued to have any of the bite of his usual reprimands.

“I’ve been very patient,” Natsume answers, giving a slight roll of his hips to underline his words. “So Shu-niisan can reward me, now.”

Shu clicks his tongue, grumbling something about how Natsume’s been ‘ruined’ by the others, but affection seeps through his every word and movement. He pulls his fingers out, leaving Natsume with the awkward, empty feeling that always comes with this part of preparation. There’s a bit of fumbling with his underwear and the bottle again, and Natsume lets his arms go slack enough to make Shu’s movements easier. It also lets him see when Shu pulls out his cock, pink and pretty and wet from the precum (and it’s weird to think of a dick as ‘pretty’, but if he had to guess anyone would have a pretty dick, Shu would be at the top of Natsume’s list).

The noises from behind them, where Rei and the others are, have quieted down, likely because their attention is focused on Natsume and Shu rather than each other, but Natsume has no interest in looking away from Shu to confirm that. Natsume tenses when he feels the head of Shu’s cock press against his entrance, suppressing a giddy smile when the realization that Shu’s completely hard just from touching him hits in full. It was one thing to have Rei help things along before, when he’d been watching Wataru and Kanata use him, but having such undeniable proof of Shu’s attraction is intoxicating in a way Natsume can barely process. 

There’s no will for subtlety left in Natsume, spreading his legs and tugging at Shu’s shirt again, uncaring how immature or desparate he looks. “Shu-niisan, I want it, you can—”

Shu dips down to kiss Natsume at the same moment he enters him in a slow, steady push that makes Natsume’s lungs burn. The expert tailoring on the dress that so elegantly hugged his figure before has turned stifling, the fabric rubbing against his oversensitive skin with each uneven breath he takes. Shu’s skin is just as hot as his own, his hands searing like brands where they’ve clamped down on his hips, his mouth molten as Natsume pants into it, reduced to a shaky mess before they’ve even gotten to the parts that are _supposed_ to make him like that.

It— it feels good, and he wants it, wants it to be just as good for Shu as it is for him, and by the time Shu’s sheathed himself completely inside of Natsume, his mind's gone blank, overcome by equal parts affection and lust. He arches his back just a little, just enough to feel his muscles clench around the intrusion, the sensation both slightly uncomfortable and deeply gratifying. The choked noise that Shu makes in response, his dick twitching inside Natsume, leaves him hungry for more.

“Shu-niisan,” Natsume whines, plaintive, when Shu still remains immobile, frozen in place where he’s leaning over him.

“Give me— give me a moment,” Shu says, the gravel in his voice making Natsume want to do the exact opposite of what he asks. He stretches out one of his legs, hooking it around Shu’s waist to pull him in closer and exhaling a pleasured moan when Shu can’t help but rut close against him. 

“That’s good, whatever Shu-niisan wants to give me, it’s good,” he’s babbling at this point, all the delicate posturing absent from his words as he pleads with his body for Shu to fuck him in earnest. Maybe this was better than his old strategy of needling Shu in the right direction with subterfuge and scheming, he thinks, as Shu stares down at him with something like the same kind of fervor that’s made Natsume so envious of his precious works of art in the past. Begging isn’t the worst thing, if it gets Shu to look at him like that.

When Shu finally pulls out, only going far enough to give Natsume the briefest slide of friction, he still cries out in relief. The shallow thrust back in is just as good, no matter how halting or hesitant, and Natsume is sure to tell him so, any will to filter his language long gone. He wants more than the quiet ache his muscles groan out when Shu repeats the motion, more than what such controlled movements can give him. He wants to see Shu enjoying himself, too.

The next time Shu pushes back in, Natsume grinds down to meet him, angling to take Shu’s cock deeper than before. He knows the exact moment when he hits that little bundle of nerves, stars exploding at the edges of his vision while his body convulses, and there’s shock in Shu’s moan as Natsume’s body constricts around him. Shu’s hips snap up in a reaction that’s far cry from how hesitant he’s been before, instinctively seeking more of that consuming heat before he can think to stop himself.

It’s too much, close to overwhelming, but that’s what Natsume’s been looking for. Shu is at his best when he’s white-knuckling the reigns of his own self-control, and Natsume wants to feel that, wear the proof of it like the bruises his hands might leave behind where he clutches at Natsume’s pale skin. He can’t leave Shu enough room to second guess his actions or stop to fuss over him and risk losing momentum, so he doesn’t. He lets his head tip back, his eyes glimmering and lashes heavy, using the leg around Shu’s waist to keep him where he wants him, the black fabric of his skirt now bunched up at his waist, leaving his leaking cock and bare thighs entirely exposed. 

“Don’t stop,” Natsume says, not liking how weak and breathless he sounds, but hoping Shu might. 

His answer comes in Shu’s forehead falling to his shoulder and another thrust, full and fast, hitting that spot deep inside him that knocks all the air from Natsume’s lungs. The only noises he can manage are breathless and harried as Shu begins to set a steady, measured pace. Natsume can’t see Shu’s reactions like this, but he can’t bring himself to care, the obscene slide of each movement overriding his every intelligent thought. All he wants is to be pushed over that edge and feel Shu fall along with him, writhing against the mattress when the head of Shu’s cock hits his prostate again. It’s good, good enough that he can probably reach that point without needing to be touched at all, could come just from Shu holding him, fucking him like this—

He doesn’t know how long there’s been just one hand holding him down by the hips, but there must be, because the other’s come up to rest on the side of his face. Shu’s touch is gentle, a harsh juxtaposition to the way he continues to drive into him, his thumb stroking Natsume’s cheek. Natsume doesn’t know why that’s the thing that does it, a warm reminder of Shu’s presence that sends lightning down his spine and a burst of heat firing off across his nerves, whiting out his vision and spilling hot come onto his own stomach with a strangled cry.

His arms go slack, hanging limp around Shu’s neck while his muscles spasm and contract. Natsume teeters on the edge of awareness long enough to feel the warm, wet proof of Shu’s own orgasm flow into him, but things go murky after that, the bright lights of the room and sensation of damp fabric blurring everything together into a disconnected series of sights and sounds.

Someone (Kanata, probably), must remove Shu from where he’s collapsed on top of him at some point. The familiar sing-song tone of their names and words of frivolous praise go in one ear and out the other, a warning Natsume doesn’t heed before the warmth of Shu’s body is no longer blanketing and he’s left alone and sticky, squinting up at the ceiling. 

He _really_ wants out of the dress, now. The zipper runs down the center of his back, though, and requires a complicated dance of sitting up and straining to angle his arms in the right position to work it down. His thoughts are scattered, a lazy fight of batting the desire to lie there motionless and get out of his soiled clothing back and forth across the expanse of his mind. Maybe if he just … rolls onto his side, and wiggles a little, he can remove it like a snake shedding its skin. No, he’d still have to lift his arms, and that sounds like work—

“What a blissful expression, Natsume-kun. Or maybe ‘braindead’ would be more! Have you managed to sate yourself on Shu for the night, hmm?”

Wataru, as always, is too loud to ignore or misinterpret. Natsume blinks as his face appears in view, a silvery curtain of hair falling down and around him to block out the other sights and sounds of the bedroom. He’s naked, his braids and bun undone, leaving several odd strands of hair curly and out of place with the rest, and a small part of Natsume regrets not paying more attention to what was happening with the others while he and Shu were preoccupied.

“Wataru-niisan, this is too hot,” is what he settles on saying, pawing at the wrinkled bodice with a clumsy hand to convey his discomfort. 

“What’s this, you need help undressing, Natsume-kun? Wouldn’t that be treating you like a helpless baby, like you’ve asked me not to do so many times in the past?” Wataru arches a pale brow, amusement clear while he gathers Natsume up into his arms. “It’s cruel to give your Wataru Hibiki such mixed messages, you know. I’m ever your loyal servant, but such a temperamental child is a difficult master to please.”

Natsume grumbles in reply to the jabbering in his ear, leaning all of his dead weight onto Wataru’s chest.

“I see! It’s a shame to take this off, after all the trouble we went through to get it on you in the first place, you know,” Natsume can feel the zipper being tugged down all the same, the cool air hitting his overheated back a welcome relief. “Lift your arms now, there we are.”

The soiled garment is tugged up and over his head, leaving Natsume in the dark for a brief moment before he’s freed of it entirely. That leaves the socks still clinging to his legs, but when he goes to try and roll them down, his wrist is caught and pulled away.

“Leave those for now,” Rei says, maneuvering to seat himself at Natsume’s back. “Unless you’re done for the night, Sakasaki-kun? Ah, it would be cruel to keep you up too late, so if you’d rather be sent off to bed instead—”

“I _will_ excuse myself if you keep referring to me by my family name when I’m naked in your lap, Rei-niisan,” Natsume snaps, sharper than he means it to be. He hadn’t actually meant to say that aloud, that long time annoyance that’s been rattling around in his head for over a year now. Rei’s gone absolutely silent, which is concerning, until he musters the energy needed to turn his head just enough to look back and take in Rei rendered speechless, his mouth ajar, caught in the middle of forming a word. 

Natsume can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Rei unable to come up with some clever retort to sidestep around an uncomfortable topic. He’s never brought it up before, the sudden change in dialect that Rei took on at the start of his final year of schooling that was an integral part of the ex-student council president’s image adjustment. There was never a good way _to_ bring it up, and after everything that had happened to them all during that period, Natsume had been content to let Rei’s transformation pass without any comment. Given their current situation, however—

“Ah, ah, Rei, please, don’t make such a miserable expression, I won’t be able to help myself!” Wataru, looking to be on the verge of tears from attempting to hold back his laughter, blurts out. “I’ve always found your little act charming, for what it’s worth! There’s nothing to be done if Natsume-kun prefers the original version, and from the threads I’ve seen going around online, he’s far from the only one.”

“It’s not about preferring Rei-niisan one way or another,” he turns his head to face Wataru, frowning at his implication. “But it’s jarring to be referred to in a less familiar way when you’re doing this sort of thing, isn’t it? It makes it sound like I’m no better than an acquaintance.”

“So Natsume-kun isn’t interested in that sort of stranger play … of course, as expected of a good child,” Wataru nods to himself, before turning his attention back to Rei. “On the other hand, your Wataru Hibiki will happily accept whatever treatment the demon king deems appropriate to grace me with~ Even the cold barrier of distance you try to put up is enticing in its own ways, Rei.”

From the side, Natsume hears a hum of agreement. Kanata’s curled himself around Shu, pressed to his side with one hand dipped between Shu’s now naked legs. He’s glancing back at them from beneath his mussed bangs, his smile serene. “I understand how Nacchan feels. It was ‘lonely’ when Rei wouldn’t call you by your name anymore, right?”

“Kanata, could you please stay focused,” Shu hisses out, the one arm thrown over his eyes hiding everything but the grimace on his face.

“Eh? I am ‘focused, Shu,” Kanata turns back to pout at him, pressing a damp kiss to his half-hidden cheek. Natsume notices his hand move again, a slight crook of his fingers that makes Shu’s spine arch, his head tipping back to bare the pale column of his throat that Kanata happily presses his lips to.

“I might’ve realized this was such an insult to you, if you had mentioned it before,” It takes a stretched out second for Natsume to recognize that Rei is addressing him, his attention caught by the sight on the far side of the bed.

“You keep putting words in my mouth,” Natsume says, drawing in a deep breath before refocusing on his own position, cradled between Rei and Wataru’s bodies. “If you go from calling me by name to using my family’s, it sounds like we aren’t as close now as we were then. And if that’s the case—”

He cranes his head back to look at Rei, his yellow eyes half-lidded, lips pulled into a moue. “—it’s not appropriate for us to be doing this kind of thing, Rei-niisan.”

What Natsume saw as attractive dishevelment on Rei before now reads as something closer to embarrassment, his once confident smile more forced than fearless.

“Such a straightforward boy,” Rei’s chuckle is strained, letting through the rasp Natsume knows he normally takes care to keep hidden. “But I see your point. I never intended to offend you, or any of our friends.”

“Intentions can only carry us so far, Rei,” Wataru says, reaching out to tickle his fingers beneath Rei’s chin. “Lucky for you, in this case, you already know the magic words needed to break the spell and regain the witch’s good favor.”

The affirmation Rei rumbles is muffled when Wataru leans in, trapping Natsume between the two of them when he catches Rei’s lips in a kiss. Wataru lingers for a few heartbeats, just long enough for a few teasing swipes of his tongue before he pulls back, waiting for Rei’s answer in expectant silence.

“My apologies, Wataru, and—” he stops mid-sentence, a smile overcoming his face again, sharper at the edges than Natsume feels comfortable with. “While I did call you by your name at that time, Natsume, there was a nickname I used as well, I think. What was it again? I feel like I hear you repeat it often, but for a certain producer instead. Should I feel flattered by that, I wonder?”

Natsume’s thoughts are slow moving, weighed down by lust and fatigue, and it takes longer than it should for him to navigate the haze and pick up on the hints Rei is dropping. Even back then, Natsume couldn’t tolerate being talked down to, so it was rare for Rei to use any sort of teasing nickname like he’d usually do for an underclassman. The few times he’d tried it, Natsume had reacted badly, which had just spurred Rei on in turn, making him go on about how he liked to hiss and flash his claws, just like a—

“That,” Natsume says, overcome with a sudden sense of regret for his past word choice as he sags forward, forehead resting against Wataru’s shoulder with a quiet ‘thump’. “Is a coincidence.”

“Oho? Are you implying something, Rei?” Wataru’s breath is warm against Natsume’s hair, tickling the delicate skin there and making the blush on his face that he’s trying to hide deepen and grow. 

“I wonder,” Rei chuckles. “On the other hand, perhaps Natsume is telling the truth. After all, he’s trying to endear himself to that young lady, and as I recall, he was never fond of being called our ‘kitten’.”

“Rei- _niisan_ ,” Natsume whines, no matter how much he likes to deny that he whines about anything. He doesn’t lift his head, hiding his face until he feels Rei’s hand curl under his jaw, coaxing him to look up and back. There’s open mirth on Rei’s face, the kind that appears whenever he’s particularly amused at his own joke, but something else simmers beneath the surface, a glint in his eye that’s equal parts affection and hunger.

“Aah, but you were our little kitten, weren’t you? We plucked you out of the chaos that had engulfed the world around us and hid you away, fed you from our plates and kept you warm in our beds. Not that you ever let yourself seem too fond of that treatment,” Rei presses his lips to Natsume’s temple, moving his hands to rest on either side of his waist as he speaks, soft and low. “Then again, there’s something to be said for protesting too much. Maybe you’re aware, deep down, that you’re best suited to being our pet? But I know how Natsume hates when I make assumptions.”

Rei trails his mouth lower, from Natsume’s cheek to his neck, making only the lightest contact when he brushes his lips against his skin. Without thinking, Natsume tilts his head to the side, inviting Rei to do more, but his touches remain brief. It’s frustrating in that peculiar way that he knows shouldn’t be frustrating, because he knows he’s already come twice tonight, and he _knows_ that encouraging anything more should be the farthest thought from his mind—

“Rei brings up a good point! I’d be happy to tuck you into bed and sing you a lullaby, if you’ve exhausted your stamina,” Wataru chimes in, face closer than Natsume remembers it being a second ago. “Or! We could try something else.”

“Something else?” Natsume echoes.

Wataru hums in confirmation, his gaze trailing down Natsume’s naked body. He reaches down, fingertips trailing along Natsume’s inner thigh as Rei continues to nip at his neck, gentle and fangless. Natsume’s skin is still tender, too sensitive for the touches not to make him wince squirm on initial contact, but Wataru and Rei seem content in taking their time to acclimate him to it.

As Natsume relaxes, Wataru’s hand creeps lower, until he’s smearing his fingers through the mess of cum and lube that’s been dribbling out of his entrance. For a moment, he thinks he might be intending to wipe it off, but instead of pulling away, he moves closer— slipping a finger into him with unprecedented ease, Natsume’s muscles only shuddering once Wataru’s pushed almost all of the way inside.

“Does that hurt?” Wataru asks, watching Natsume closely while he waits for his response.

“Not … hurt, it’s just uncomfortable,” he says. “Wataru-niisan, you never answered my question.”

“Oh? It depends, of course,” Wataru’s smile broadens as he crooks his finger and sees Natsume’s hips twitch. “Don’t worry about that for now. We need to test something, first.”

Natsume wants to snap at him, because nothing of what Wataru just said is anywhere close to a proper answer, but when he opens his mouth to speak, his words trail off into a soft whine. Rei’s moved a hand to Natsume’s chest, flicking at one of his pert nipples with his thumb, bites turning sharper where he’s still lavishing attention on Natsume’s neck. It’s too distracting, the mild pain of Rei’s fangs where the drag against his skin sends shivers racing down his spine, serving as a compelling distraction to Wataru teasing another finger against his hole. It slips in with as little resistance as the first, drawing another hum from Wataru, pleased with the result.

“Natsume,” Rei says, breath ghosting against his reddened skin. “I want to bite you.”

At the same time, Wataru scissors his fingers, the sensation of being carefully stretched vying with Rei’s words for attention. He knows what Rei’s asking, that he’s not talking about the little hickies he’s already given him, but his mind is frazzled from over-stimulation, and he stumbles over what to say. “I’ll pass out if you do that.” 

“I won’t drink,” Rei laughs, tugging at the nipple still close to his hand to draw a high keen from Natsume’s throat. “Just the bite. I know you always liked it.”

And it’s true, he has, he likes the sharp sting that’s followed by a crushing wave of euphoria, likes the two pin prick marks it leaves behind, how could he not, when it gave him such undeniable proof of Rei’s fantastic nature and lasting evidence of his affection in one neat package. He wants to say yes, Rei’s assurances make it easy to justify saying yes, and in the end, that must be what he mumbles out.

The world swims out of focus around him when Rei sinks his teeth into his neck, barely registering that Wataru’s pushed a third finger in at the same time. He can feel his breathing slow, time seeming to grind to a halt around him. As promised, Rei retracts his fangs after the quick puncture, the fleeting ache giving way to the heady pull that drags Natsume down, making him go lax and loose, only staying upright because Rei’s chest is solid and steady at his back.

Rei licks what little blood he left away, pressing a kiss over the wound once he’s satisfied. Natsume is flooded with warmth and stupid with it, doesn’t think to do anything but sigh and wriggle against Wataru’s hand when he spreads his fingers inside of him again, and former discomfort numbed away to something inconsequential.

“I think you can try now, Rei.”

“Kanata, where did you put the bottle?”

Their conversation sounds far away, the noises of the bedroom passing in one ear and out the other. He’s jostled a little, nothing serious, and Natsume stays floating in his haze of vampire induced bliss until he notices Rei’s hand moving again, going down this time, between his spread legs, to join Wataru’s.

“Rei-niisan?” Natsume’s voice sounds strange to his own ears, too small and docile. He’s not sure what he’s asking, what they’re even doing that he has to ask after.

“Tell me how this feels,” Rei says, his slick fingers rubbing against Natsume’s stretched hole.

It’s … not bad. That’s what he says out loud without realizing, again, which prompts Rei to press harder, his motions more exact and purposeful, and before Natsume can gather his thoughts into something coherent again—

Rei’s finger slides inside of him, pushing up against the ones Wataru has there already. The stretch is more uncomfortable now, and his body begins to tense in protest, clenching around the intrusion in a way that makes it feel even larger.

“Natsume-kun,” Wataru says, his relative quietness doing more to focus Natsume’s attention than his shouting ever could. “Can you look at me? You’ve been doing so well for us tonight, your Wataru Hibiki is overcome with gratitude.”

Natsume lifts his head the moment Wataru asks him, a doll pulled by a string, all of his pretension stripped away to leave him bared and obedient between the two of them. Wataru rewards him with a smile, and leans in to give him a placating kiss, one that’s just long enough to distract Natsume from seeing when Rei takes hold of his half-hard cock.

“And this? Is it too much?” Rei keeps his grip loose when he pumps Natsume’s length, pausing when Natsume starts to shake his head. “No?”

It is, all of this is the definition of too much, but that’s not what Natsume says. “You can keep going.”

A less reckless boy might have the foresight to ask _where_ they were going with this, but the way Natsume sees it, there’s no point. He’s made it this far trailing blind in their wakes, his trust in them so complete that he’s never thought twice about doing otherwise. It’s why he gave himself, packaged to their taste and tied in a bow, as a graduation present to them in the first place— he was always prepared for things to end up someplace like this.

Rei’s hand on him begins to move with more purpose after that, moving with a steady rhythm that draws the heat back out from Natsume’s veins, bit by bit, the warmth running beneath his skin dulling the sharp edges of all the sensations that are culminating around him. He relaxes, putting more of his weight back against Rei, and after a few breaths, Wataru’s fingers begin to crook and curl inside of him. He’s watching Natsume’s reactions with a careful eye, searching for signs of discomfort or arousal when he strokes against his inner walls. 

“Well? What’s the verdict?” Natsume can’t parse Rei’s question, too distracted by what’s going on between his thighs, but Wataru seems to understand.

“One more, I think, if we want to be sure,” he says. “And we do want to be sure about this, don’t we?”

Meaning, of course, another of Rei’s fingers positioned at his entrance, seeking to tease him open even further. It plunges in with little effort after Wataru brushes against his prostate for just long enough to make Natsume see stars, his surprised moans the signal Rei takes as his go-ahead.

It feels full, more than Natsume’s tried to take on by himself or with anyone else before. There’s a quiet shock lingering in the back of his mind that he’s managed so much, though given his other activities tonight, being loosened up so much by Wataru and Shu in turn likely helped things along. 

He doesn’t have much time to dwell on the hows or whys of what’s happened, not when Rei’s mouthing at his neck again, starting to thrust his fingers shallowly in time with his hand that hasn’t stopped moving on Natsume’s cock. He watches distantly as Wataru reaches down for something on the bed, the now well-used bottle of lube that’s been passed back and forth between them all, and the snap of the cap being opened is all the warning he gets before they both pull out of him.

It was awkward before, a lingering discomfort that not couldn’t be fully assuaged by touches or Rei’s brand of magic, but after all the adjusting, the sudden emptiness is somehow worse. Natsume’s hips cant down on nothing while he blinks, trying to bring the world back into focus as he scrambles to figure out what they’ve decided to do now.

“It’s fine, kitten, nothing to worry about,” Rei says, the desperate rasp that sticks to his words making the hairs on the back of Natsume’s neck stand on end. 

He can see Wataru now as he leans in closer, helping Rei to coax Natsume up onto his knees, keeping him there with his hands on his hips once the obvious tremble of his legs makes it impossible to hold the position on his own.

“Put your arms around me now, good, just like that,” Wataru manages to sound more collected, his thumbs rubbing in tight circles against Natsume’s tense muscles, but his eyes stay fixed behind him, focused on Rei. “Are we ready?”

“I’ve got you.”

They’ve both come closer, caging Natsume between them in a tight press of their bodies. Wataru moves his grip down, from Natsume’s hips to his ass, a shift that jostles his delicate balance and pitches him forward, arms wrapping even tighter around Wataru in order to stay upright. Wataru chuckles, kneading into his soft flesh under his hands, still playing at being the ever patient upperclassman, but the tightness Natsume can feel in his shoulders reveals his barely contained eagerness.

Beneath him, something brushes against his entrance, hot and wet and familiar, but also somehow not. Natsume’s been wondering how they were planning to go about this, the thought of them taking turns painting a picture that found himself turning over in his mind for longer than was strictly necessary. His pride tells him that asking at this point is silly, even as he struggles to piece together what it is this position best facilitates, his dulled mind regaining the barest flash of a sharp edge.

Someone’s cock presses into him again, he thinks, until he feels another slide up with it, aimed at the same spot. Wataru lowers him, not more than a centimeter down, and he can feel it when both of them catch at his well stretched rim. Treacherous arousal washes over Natsume as he realizes what it is they’re intending, throwing him beneath a tide of ill-advised urges, and making what he says next nothing more than the most token of protests. “You can’t both fit.”

Even with all that preparation, it’s impossible. Natsume’s sure of this, quite positive, but does nothing to try and resist.

“Is it not appealing to you, Natsume-kun?” Wataru’s lips brush against his ear, teasing, the answer to his question already evident in the flush that’s spread across Natsume’s pale neck and shoulders.

Natsume doesn’t have it in him to give some half-hearted denial, not when he can already feel the heads of their cocks beginning to push up against his entrance, his weakened muscles shuddering as the natural pull of gravity assists to ease them in. The stretch is beyond discomfort now, firmly on the side of painful, but he says nothing. He presses his face into the space between Wataru’s neck and collar bone instead, inhaling the scent of sweat and the lingering must of dove feathers.

Wataru murmurs something soft and fond, a lilt like a spell to whatever nonsense he plies Natsume with, allowing him to take a single calm breath. It cools Natsume’s burning lungs, his body going lax when he inhales, allowing his own weight to do the rest of the work and drag him down onto Wataru and Rei’s cocks.

That breath he’d just taken is ripped from his chest when he finally feels himself split open to allow the two of them inside, the pain of it becoming a dull roar that drowns out all other sound. The vibrations from Wataru’s throat against his cheek are the only way Natsume knows that he’s speaking, though the words are utterly lost to him. Worst of all, they’ve just stopped there, Wataru holding him steady so his entrance is forced wide but everything beyond is left empty, and can’t help how he’s clenching around them to try and fill the space.

“I told you … to keep going,” Natsume can’t hear himself, and he’s unsure if he actually said anything aloud until Rei presses a kiss to the back of his neck, his strained laughter reverberating in the space around them.

“Hah, Wataru, he’s being demanding now, isn’t he?”

“He’s always been demanding, he gets that from you,” Wataru says, finally filtering through the static. “We did not think this through at all—”

He’s tired of them talking over him, especially right now. With the way Wataru’s holding him now, his movement is limited, but he can cant his hips back with a little effort, the slight shift of their cocks inside of him enough to make a shiver run through him and silence Wataru and Rei’s sniping.

Little earthquakes continue to wrack Natsume’s body as Wataru lets him sink down further. There’s no point in trying to control the noises he makes now, gasps and moans flowing freely from his lips, all wrung out of him by the sensation of being impaled on their lengths. The pain doesn’t cease, but it’s bordering on something else now, tenuously balanced on a line that threatens to tip over from unpleasant to satisfying at any given moment.

The nagging sense of reason in the back of his mind is sure to remind him this is too much, that this can’t work, that they’ll break him in half before they bottom out. It circles around, tattooing its message behind his tightly shut eyes, a truth that won’t be ignored— at least, until Natsume thighs come to rest against Wataru’s hips, his own half-hard cock trapped between their tightly pressed bodies, and Rei is panting with his full weight against Natsume’s back.

He tries to call out Rei’s name, but the word turns to dust in his mouth, a reedy whine that he can’t control coming out in its place. Rei murmurs some doting nonsense against his neck, his warm breath tickling the plethora of marks and bruises he’s littered across Natsume’s skin, and the makeup department is going to give him hell for it when nothing’s faded in time for his next performance but he doesn’t _care_.

“Can you move? I’m not sure that I can move,” Rei groans, as if he’s the one being torn apart.

Wataru huffs out a sigh, his own chest heaving from exertion. “Such dramatics. Let’s see …”

Natsume can’t see what Wataru does, only feels the shallow grind of his hips when he rocks up into him. One of Wataru’s hands slips out from under his ass, skirting down Natsume’s leg to hook beneath his knee. There’s not much room to move, even when Wataru pulls that leg up, holding it to Natsume’s side in order to stretch him out further, but it’s enough to allow another, more proper thrust. Rei hisses when Natsume cries out, because he feels it too, the rough slide of Wataru’s cock against his own where they’re both squeezed together by Natsume’s trembling body. 

Rei mirrors the motion after a beat, just as short and halting and not enough to be satisfying in any other situation, but Natsume’s so full, and at this point he’s beyond having any shame in how little it takes to make him twist and shudder. This rutting is enough, quick and base as it is, and Natsume knows he wouldn’t last at all for anything more.

Wataru moves once Rei sinks back in, and it doesn’t take them long to establish an uneven rhythm. Natsume’s aware, distantly, of how his blunt nails claw at Wataru’s shoulders and back, hard enough to score marks into his skin. He’s strung out, his mind fried by arousal and reduced to the most basic mode of operation, little more than a series of animal instincts that keep him breathing and upright. 

He’s not sure how long it takes for the pulse of his orgasm to start building up again, his grasp on time tenuous at best. Maybe it was when Rei pushed Wataru to lie back so he could fuck him deeper, less carefully, showering Natsume with loose tongued praise, or maybe it was just feeling the hummingbird quick beating of Wataru’s heart where they’re chest to chest. Everything’s starting to bleed together into a syrupy mess of pleasure, and when one of them hits his prostate his already narrow world turns into a loud blur of color and noise. He might scream— no, he’s sure he does, because Rei and Wataru’s movements slow for long enough to let it all decelerate back to something he can grasp again.

“He’s fine, you’re doing fine, aren’t you, kitten?” Rei says, in reply to a voice expressing concern off to the side. Were Shu and Kanata still there? Natsume had nearly forgotten.

Natsume can’t tell if the question is meant to be rhetorical or not, but he mumbles in agreement against Wataru’s neck all the same. “S’fine. You don’t need to stop.”

Rei leans down to press a kiss between his shoulder blades, exhaling a chuckle that creeps down Natsume’s spine like a lingering touch. Natsume can feel his pulse through his cock when he rolls his hips up, an erratic beat that’s buried inside of him. It intensifies when his thrusts get longer, syncing up with Wataru’s, one of them pushing in when the other pulls back, though it’s only ever so long or deep, not enough to risk slipping out, making sure that they both stay sheathed in the warm vice of Natsume’s body.

There’s no precision in it, just heat and friction and Natsume’s nerve endings all about to combust and burn out. All he really needs is his cock rubbing against the line of Wataru’s abdomen and someone glancing against his sweet spot once, twice, to send him spiraling out. His eyes flutter as spend leaks weakly out from the slit of his cock, unable to give any more than that and a final, weak convulsion that draws out heady moans of ecstasy into the air around him.

Neither of them can last long after that, and he can feel it when they spill over, both of them still inside and adding to a mess that’s already begun to trickle out and down his thighs. Rei has become crushing where he’s almost collapsed against his back, but Natsume doesn’t have it in him to complain. There’s nothing left in him to grumble or try to squirm away. He’s complete dead weight, trapped there between them, unable and unwilling to move a single muscle.

He doesn’t lift his head when he feels them pull out, even though it’s awful, and he can’t tell if the emptiness or the obscene amount of come that’s left over is worse.There’s some more jostling, and when he can’t hold back his little noises of displeasure, Wataru unceremoniously shoves Rei off of both of them to give Natsume some air. 

He’s too out of it to pay much attention to the conversation that starts up in the wake of Rei’s removal, already half asleep as he is on top of Wataru. It’s a much more pleasant arrangement now that he’s not sandwiched between two sweaty bodies and Wataru’s taken to idly finger-combing out his hair, the soothing, repetitive motion of his hand helping to lull Natsume further along into a drowsy post-coitous afterglow.

“It’s past Nacchan’s ‘bedtime’. You can bother Shu if you’re so ‘energetic’ now, Rei.”

“—what? What do I have to do with any of this, Kanata, come back here—”

The gentle bickering is easy enough to ignore, even as it begins to ramp up in volume, but being physically swept up and into someone’s arms is trickier. It’s difficult to slip into the welcoming arms of sleep when the glare of fluorescent bathroom lighting can’t be shut away just by closing his eyes, but Natsume is nothing if not determined, and by the time he’s positioned under a gentle spray of warm water, he’s slipped off into unconsciousness.


	3. iii

“—Kanata, you just left him like this? Did you even try to dry him off?!”

Natsume jolts awake, immediately aware of the strangeness of his surroundings, the unfamiliarity of the sheets beneath him and the color of the ceiling above him all coalescing into something close to panic. He doesn’t remember where he is or how he got there or why he’s wearing nothing but a souvenir aquarium t-shirt, until his vision focuses enough to see Shu standing over him, illuminated dimly by the light coming from he bedside lamp. 

The irritation on his face turns to something softer when he notices Natsume’s movement, smoothing the worst of his exasperation away before he turns to address him. “And now I’ve been left to deal with this mess. Sit up, boy, I’m not about to let you catch your death on top of everything else.”

“Shu-niisan?” Natsume says, staring in mild confusion as Shu turns without explanation to open and go through a door that leads out of the bedroom, which doesn’t look like the exact one they were in earlier, but is styled similarly enough to bring recent events back to the forefront of Natsume’s mind.

They were at that hotel, probably, and Natsume had probably fallen asleep, after …

Oh. Right.

He very much wants to crawl back under the covers and hide there, for at least a day or two, but Shu is already back, a hairdryer clutched in one hand and heading his way. 

“You’ll thank me in the morning when your hair isn’t an impossible mess,” Shu says matter-of-factly, sitting down on the side of the bed nearest to Natsume. 

It’s strange to see Shu talking just as proud and upright as he would at any other time in such an intimate setting. He’s dressed down to his underwear and wrinkled button up that’s been left open, leaving nothing to conceal his neck and the tell-tale bite mark that wasn’t there the last time Natsume saw him. Something in the way Shu is doing his best to act like there’s nothing questionable about this at all tells him he’s hoping Natsume won’t comment— and for the moment, he decides to humor him.

“My hair … ?” he focuses on trying to puzzle out what Shu is so out of sorts about instead, shifting to try and sit up as instructed and doing the best to hide the grimace that crosses his face when the movement sends spikes of pain lancing up his back. There’s a damp halo on the pillow that was beneath his head, the wet strands of hair that cling to his skin confirming that Kanata had thought it best for Natsume to ‘soak’ a little after his long day.

Shu takes his chin in hand, not stopping to ask for permission before he turns Natsume’s head to the side and aims a blast of hot air at the ends of his hair. Natsume has to squeeze his eyes shut when it’s blown into his face, unable to voice his complaints over the drone of the dryer that eats up all the silence of the room, forcing him to sit alone with his thoughts instead.

Fussing like this is just like Shu, which is good— it would be … strange if he took recent events as a reason to act any other way. Natsume can’t imagine what that sort of Shu would like, and doesn’t think he wants to. Preserving their current relationship was a strong reason not to fuck him, if Natsume stops to think on it. It was, in all likelihood, the other three’s intention to put him in a position where he wouldn’t, in order to enable him going through with it.

The realization that he was maneuvered so effectively sits like a weight in his stomach, what he imagines must be a sour expression taking hold of his features, because it’s enough to make Shu flick the hair dryer off and address him with concern.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling ill? I told them we should’ve taken you a hospital, or at least contacted a physician after I realized what had happened, but those reckless fools—”

“That’s the last thing you need to do, Shu-niisan,” Natsume cuts him off, trying to do his best impression of ‘not utterly horrified by the idea of any of that’. “A good night’s sleep is what will help me the most right now.”

Shu looks placated enough by Natsume’s words, casting his gaze aside with a quiet huff. “Be that as it may, you should take care to be less cavalier in the future. As an idol, your physical health is one of your most prized assets.”

“Does that mean Shu-niisan is feeling well, then?” Natsume’s eyes dart to wound on his neck, reminding him of the fact that he’s still unsure of just how long he’s been asleep.

“Well enough,” Shu replies abruptly, looking much stiffer than he did a moment ago as he abruptly shifts the subject. “It would be best if you took something for the pain now, rather than put it off until morning.”

“Shu’s right! I have some Tylenol, if you’d like.”

Natsume hadn’t heard the door open, or felt the bed dip under the weight of another person, but Wataru is there, sitting next to him all the same. He hasn’t put any clothes back on, dressed only in swathes of his own hair, turned quicksilver by the twinkling sea of city lights that lie beyond the huge window that acts as the far wall of the room. 

Shu doesn’t quite jump, managing to keep his reaction to a short jolt of his shoulders and a deep scowl. “Is knocking beyond you, Wataru? To say nothing of your current … state of—”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen now, my friend! What reason is there to hide one’s god given figure among such treasured company?” Wataru says, smiling broadly as he summons a crumpled cardboard packet with a wave of his hand. “Or is it back to playing coy, now that you’ve seduced us all? Such a ruthless move, but it’s a classic maneuver that I must respect!”

Natsume is too enthralled watching Wataru produce a glass of water in the same manner as the pills to pay attention to Shu’s clenched teeth or rapidfire denials of, non, he did nothing of the sort! He takes the glass without question when Wataru hands it to him, his mind buzzing to try and puzzle out how he managed it without wearing a coat, or even a shirt. Had he hidden them both in his hair?

“There are well documented health benefits in sleeping naked, you know,” he continues on as if he hasn’t heard a word Shu just said to him, which is entirely possible, busying himself with tearing open the tin foil pill packaging instead. “Would you like one or two, Natsume-kun?”

“Two, please.”

Shu sighs in defeat, taking quick note of Natsume’s lack of reaction and claiming his loss. “How thoroughly you’ve managed to corrupt him. I would say it's a shame, but I see I’m the only one who seems to object to it.”

“You’re one of those corrupters now too, Shu. Another thing for us to bond over!” Wataru drops the pills in Natsume’s waiting palm, then turns his attention to Shu, his smile turning to a lascivious grin as he leans over Natsume and towards him. “One of several things, wouldn’t you say? I feel like we know each other much better now, in so many new ways.”

“You—” Shu rears back, face contorting into a combination of indignation and embarrassment. “There is— there’s no need to discuss that now!”

“Isn’t there? You were there to see everything with Natsume-kun, but he had to leave before we finished. We should fill him in on what happened after that for the sake of fairness, don’t you think?” Wataru persists, as earnest as can be.

“No, I don’t!” he stands up, hair dryer clenched in one white-knuckled hand. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to return this.”

He storms off into the bathroom without another word, leaving Wataru to sigh in mock woe and collapse onto Natsume’s lap. “So cold! And just for wanting to discuss things that happened earlier! My deepest apologies, Natsume-kun, I did try!”

“I didn’t ask you to, Wataru-niisan.”

“Ah, that’s true. Nevertheless!”

Natsume can’t keep his lips from curling up into a smile of his own, which Wataru mirrors sunnily, flopping down onto his side a moment later to use his thighs as a pillow. 

“Natsume-kun won’t turn me away so cruelly, will you? It was for your sake, after all,” Wataru says, looking up at Natsume with the wide, insincere eyes of a brat with no regrets.

“It was not. You’re just a bully,” Natsume replies, giving a few gentle pats to the top of Wataru’s head. “Together with Rei-niisan, there’s no person you can’t drive to the pits of despair.”

His own mention of Rei reminds him that he’s yet to see the former student council president or Kanata yet— his eyes drift over to the door that must lead back into the other rooms of the suite, its outline illuminated in the relative dark.

“Rei’s making a phone call,” Wataru answers after following Natsume’s line of sight, picking up on the question without hearing it. “He ‘forgot’ to tell his partner he wouldn’t be back tonight. Kanata had taken the phone from him to say hello to Kaoru-kun himself when I left them. Should I summon him for you?”

“No, I don’t need to speak to him,” Natsume shakes his head. “Unless he’s leaving early tomorrow. I don’t know your schedules that well.”

“Oh, I know there’s nothing until tomorrow evening. Your spell lasts a full 24 hours, doesn’t it? It would be a crime to waste a single second of the precious time granted to us by our little magician.”

“I didn’t clear my schedule for tomorrow, Wataru-niisan—”

“Didn’t you? I’m sure you if you looked at it again, you’d find your appointments have all been mysteriously rearranged. How amazing!”

The stubborn part of Natsume itches for his own phone, because it had certainly looked the same when he’d double checked it after their arrival, but he has no idea where it is, and Wataru’s beaming face tells him all he needs to know about the outcome of trying to prove him wrong.

“I’ll take the opportunity to sleep in, then,” he says, doing his best not to pout while he sets the glass of water aside on the bedside table.

“We’ll have to see who wins in the battle of wills between Shu and Rei for that dream to be realized,” Wataru’s head turns, as if he preternaturally senses that Shu is due to open the bathroom door a second later. “Speaking of! Shu~ It’s become quite late! It’s best that we get you tucked in, the Emperor requires his beauty sleep.”

“I’m aware of that, Wataru,” Shu says, with a tone of a long-suffering parent who’s been reminded by a precocious toddler that water is wet. “How are we dividing up the beds?”

“Is there some reason to? There’s three of us here, and this bed can fit three comfortably,” Wataru gestures to the rest of the mattress. “And it would be cruel to leave Natsume-kun all on his own in a strange place at night. What if he has a nightmare, or needs someone to take him to the bathr—”

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” Natsume snaps. “There’s not enough room in the bed for you and your terrible jokes.”

Wataru tries to aim a pitiable look up Natsume for the insult, but relents quickly enough.

“I will choose our beloved Shu over my very funny jokes, if you insist.”

“I haven’t agreed to this, you know,” Shu feels the need to interject, even if he adds a moment later; “Not that I have a serious objection to it.”

Wanting them all to pile into bed together like an elementary school sleepover is the peak of childish desire. Wataru will use it as an excuse to crow about what an adorable child he is, take pictures of his sleeping face to bribe Rei and Kanata with later, and Shu won’t lift a finger to stop him. He doesn’t need his crystal ball to know he’ll regret his decision come tomorrow morning, but then, he also knows it will be the same sort of regret he feels towards this graduation present.

“I’d be happy to share with Shu-niisan.”

That settles the issue without further debate. Shu gives a halting nod and Wataru wiggles up into a kneeling position, reaching out to snatch Shu’s arm and yank him onto the bed with unnecessary force once he gets in range. Natsume has to reach around their flailing arms to turn off the lamp, pausing in the darkness that follows to wait for Wataru to finish positioning Shu to his liking.

Which is as his little spoon, Natsume sees, once his eyes readjust.

“Natsume-kun,” Wataru beckons, coaxing him to lie down on Shu’s other side. Natsume allows himself to follow, to be pulled close to both of them as soon as his head touches the pillow, and the exhaustion that he’s been fighting for hours pulls him further, until he’s tucked against the warm planes of Shu’s chest.

He tries to think of a spell for sweet dreams, but the slow breathing of two other bodies does the trick better than his elaborate incantations. The lights on the other side of the window look farther and farther away as he drifts off, their colors all merging together behind his eyelids, turning into a scene of the ocean at dusk, or a crowd of waving penlights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, that was a lot! thanks for reading


End file.
